last seen: string a strung across hung countless, poured out tumbled out, witnessed in wilts and slides, sweat-ballin' without moving, stomped knees, stacked bodies contemplating triangulation, and then the durms, turmpin, bendy, wham...impressive. or, tasteless, as in, without flavor, supping by foot.
who saw the silk?
how tall is tall?
how many amps, slack strings, fake-brit croon dudes does it take to make you flux out an indiscreet vertical?
and under what hazy sky?
in the end, we all went home, with how much, not much, leftovers, 88 maybes, shiny kicks, in several cars, sitting on a microwave in a messy yard.