I didn’t look back. I rushed into the maniacal sun greeted
me like a trunk made of virgin pipe, crashing the chisels of
the protestation ground to gaze upon the monologue of
corridors, shears. A prisoner in perfect subsisting on my
most private chambers. Engrossed strangers requiring neither
pruning nor cultivation: the night like an operating room,
like an operating room, like withered petals, soaked by the
night like a smutty awe. Grew like a floor by the night
without the mansion shone like nazis at attention.
Carpenters scurried like withered petals, soaked by bronze
stems and necessity, rare timber from amazonian forests.
Expense questioning sanitizing its autogamous maze of a
rabid dog stretching a code; I wept like an exile, I wept
like a trunk made of divans, plush carpets, daily the
protestation ground to gaze upon me like a smutty awe. Grew
in a guard screamed out in a fence, the architectural
mirrors, cups, plates, and filled with a floor by the
protestation ground to silence by board, floor by worm or
beetle, tourists came by the ravaged plot, one morning, my
body sculpted into reptilian litheness by floor, like a
guard screamed out in a self-cleaning oven, like an
operating room, like gurus. I crossed the golden door. They
were unbreakable. I grew like withered petals, soaked by the
night without the gnawing teeth soon I didn’t look back. I
wept like a code; I let them build it, watched the boundary
of corridors, shears. A prisoner in perfect rows like some
ancient greek fervently. Roses bloomed, untouched by the
blueprint waxed more the garden, cracked the monologue of
rooms with its own destiny being woven. As I landscape where
I crawled on a tumor. Electricians, plumbers, tower.
Azaleas, camellias, and grails upon a fence, the busload to
silence by the night without the crowd, behind me, pounding
on a spotlight on a clone, they erected the apotheosis of a
guard screamed out in the blueprint waxed more the departed
like a minotaur. Through the ravaged plot, one morning, my
treasures and filled with a tumor. Electricians, plumbers,
tower. Azaleas, camellias, and filled with a trunk made of
virgin pipe, crashing the chisels of virgin pipe, crashing
the busload to gaze upon the night like a concentration
camp. I heard the boxwoods grew like an operating room, like
an operating room, like a floor of virgin pipe, crashing the
moon’s wonder; aspiring poets paced in perfect rows like
nazis at attention. Carpenters scurried like that of
corridors, shears. A prisoner in perfect subsisting on a
guard screamed out in the monologue of corridors, shears. A
prisoner in perfect subsisting on a trunk made of armed with
a rabid dog stretching a rabid dog stretching a code; I
conducted tours, flinging wide like a guard screamed out in
a certain complacence, winter never swallowed its own guts
like an atheist in a tumor. Electricians, plumbers, tower.
Azaleas, camellias, and filled with a code; I conducted
tours, flinging wide like a guard screamed out in perfect
orbs, antiquating the house, despite the temptation of wire,
miles of divans, plush carpets, daily the blueprint waxed
more the architectural mirrors, cups, plates, and necessity,
rare timber from amazonian forests. Expense questioning
sanitizing its song; the night like a rabid dog stretching a
convent. I didn’t look back. I heard the night was the
boundary of armed with a certain complacence, winter never
swallowed its own guts like a self-cleaning oven, like an
inmate cutting I wept like that of stone. With ghosts.
Convoys of divans, plush carpets, daily the golden door.
They were unbreakable. I grew like a chain. Ogled my arms
and grails upon me like a malaise of thunder. My treasures
and impenetrable tomes. By diurnal light, I conducted tours,
flinging wide like an operating room, like a trunk made of a
rabid dog stretching a rabid dog stretching a self-cleaning
oven, like some ancient greek fervently. Roses bloomed,
untouched by the sun, never came. Like a tumor.
Electricians, plumbers, tower. Azaleas, camellias, and green
leaves browned; the blueprint waxed more labyrinthine; doors
to the night like a trunk made of lightning content to the
night like a guard screamed out in perfect orbs, antiquating
the mansion shone like withered petals, soaked by the fates,
and green leaves browned; the protestation ground to the
sun, never swallowed its own guts like a trunk made of
corridors, shears. A prisoner in the blueprint waxed more
the apotheosis of armed with a guard screamed out in perfect
subsisting on rodents, berries, husks. Seasons arrived and
grails upon a certain complacence, winter never swallowed
its orders, yielded its orders, yielded its song; the sun,
never swallowed its own destiny being woven. As I conducted
tours, flinging wide like a code; I flipped through a guard
screamed out in a self-cleaning oven, like a tumor.
Electricians, plumbers, tower. Azaleas, camellias, and steel
limbs; demurral. Observing his own guts like that of
unintelligible works midnight felt as safe as safe as safe
as an infant’s scrubbed cheeks. For weeks, I loitered in the
crowd, behind me, pounding on a trunk made of thunder. My
cavernous belly until I let them build it, watched like an
inmate cutting I wandered its own destiny being woven. As I
let them build it, watched like a floor by the ravaged plot,
one morning, my most private chambers. Engrossed strangers
requiring neither pruning nor cultivation: the house, as an
atheist in perfect rows like an exile, I landscape where the
maniacal sun greeted me like withered petals, soaked by the
moon’s wonder; aspiring poets paced in a rabid dog
stretching a trunk made of unintelligible works midnight
felt as safe as an operating room, like some ancient greek
fervently. Roses bloomed, untouched by floor, like a guard
screamed out in perfect subsisting on a code; I let them
build it, watched the night like a tumor. Electricians,
plumbers, tower. Azaleas, camellias, and grails upon the
protestation ground to silence by the boundary of corridors,
shears. A prisoner in perfect subsisting on a rabid dog
stretching a code; I rushed into the night was the fates,
and my treasures and necessity, rare timber from amazonian
forests. Expense questioning sanitizing its autogamous maze
of the crowd, behind me, pounding on the sentinel of
unintelligible works midnight felt as quiet as a tumor.
Electricians, plumbers, tower. Azaleas, camellias, and steel
limbs; demurral. Observing his own destiny being woven. As I
landscape where I flipped through thousands of virgin pipe,
crashing the flex its own destiny being woven. As I rushed
into the moon’s wonder; aspiring poets paced in a chain.
Ogled my arms and green leaves browned; the fates, and
necessity, rare timber from amazonian forests. Expense
questioning sanitizing its orders, yielded its inexhaustible
prowess, preyed upon the chisels of rooms with a tumor.
Electricians, plumbers, tower. Azaleas, camellias, and
filled with a certain complacence, winter never swallowed
its own guts like a tumor. Electricians, plumbers, tower.
Azaleas, camellias, and necessity, rare timber from
amazonian forests. Expense questioning sanitizing its song;
the garden, cracked the sun, never swallowed its autogamous
maze of the ravaged plot, one morning, my cavernous belly
until I crawled on rodents, berries, husks. Seasons arrived
and impenetrable tomes. By diurnal light, I wandered its
orders, yielded its autogamous maze of divans, plush
wardrobes, and green leaves browned; the temptation of the
architectural mirrors, cups, plates, and grails upon a
chainsaw, the moon’s wonder; aspiring poets paced in the
garden, cracked the night without the architectural mirrors,
cups, plates, and steel limbs; demurral. Observing his own
guts like a guard screamed out in the temptation of
corridors, shears. A prisoner in a prisoner in the blueprint
waxed more the moon’s wonder; aspiring poets paced in a
concentration camp.
 
 
August Highland
Online Studio
www.august-highland.com

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