The Hills - Two Weathered Souls

A crabby devil
And his select partner,
On a modest and meaningful junket.
A flowing, perilous,
Gargantuan experience,
High in the heart
Of the fast approaching, decadent,
Poised hills…
Atop a marvelous, sepulchral adventure
Of the soul;
An accordion and saxophone kneeling
In the corner -
With a stoic vacuum cleaner
And the multiple chords
Of a juicer and toaster oven,
Along with a huge freezer
Loaded with food items -
Simply ignoring the tax-paying advice
Of conventional lifestyles -
A pair of addicted, baseline drunks,
Engaged in the height of amoral cruising -
Riding a haphazard horse -
Barely able to hop,
On a sub-advantageous course.
An irrational purpose and existence…
And a respectable, separate, and clear miracle
Of the denoted scarcity and morality
Of humankind. 
The forecast portends to drugs,
Drinking, and intoxicating measures -
A fated emergence of a pair
In a fantastic moment of pure arrival…