Asinine Syndicate

Firm Jokes,
blue of sky
red and hide.
Midnight hazel
of the moon rise.
Across the many skies,
of the scaled horizon.

One,
paints in directions.
Never quite caught,
in a photograph.
Yet,
Humanity, cries out
for more.

Lie after lie.
Sit here,
in multicolored barrels
of tie-die.
Absorbing,
red love
stultified by,
casual domination
of paper lifestyles.

Which,
many can sell
simultaneously flashing.
Thoughts,
thought, thought.
For capital,
one and two equals three,
a flash process
of gain through time.

Known as needed.
Regard,
for action be-told.
Gestures granted,
through lazy eyes.
Silvery laminated
of,
foiled rhymes.


Ticking,
aimless ticking.
Continues photograph's.
Growth process,
of such syndicating
sales.

Sales of gale force,
windy seas,
captured mindlessly.
Not thinking,
or thinking,
of possibly thinking.
Maybe thought,
of art caught.
Storm ventures taught.
Granted,
in arguments
never trusted.
In the bleak
blink,
of a camera eye.