Bits of prose and poem

Liberate art from form. Shifting pronouns existing outside inside of time. there is no narration, no plot, no intention, no memories and poetic phrases bring some semblance of story together. memories exist outside time in shift and rhyme. it is extravagant prose that tries to be pretty. puff of seedling rolls across the table like a spider hiding clues poorly. visceral, like breaking glass pieces scattered, evoke, evocative like the almost silent chimes. Chimes in a song, an assault of images mimicking the internal monologue. loose yourself into the stream, do not demand anything from beauty but to be pretty words in a vortex. contrived is structure structure the plot engine temporal frame narrative drive why, why metafiction. if you have this, you must have that, but why? 6 billion of us to hell, hard to believe. body breaks, velvet underground if sleep ever comes.