11-30-13 Building The Perfect Bubble

fishes echoing music into a burning auburn subset searching for diamonds in a playground graveyard paradise defined before an altered state of subconscious thoughts dissolving through the fog of a late evening playlist rocking out on a Saturday night as the first day of December is only moments away from dawning while we are yawning because we have not had our coffee yet at the Plaza Diner smoking cigarettes at our table waiting on an order of fried mozzarella sticks with a side of tomato sauce telling stories while watching the action in the parking lot after the clubs shut down for the night switching back to new times wild out in a casual way forward into the future holding my breath until pigs fly south for the summer when the sun runs out of steam and Sasquatch stops believing in the existence of the human race