I am Knots–a small book by RD Laing– minimal price to pay for keeping your soul before it's stolen by the doctor-derange discotheque department–diligently seeking new members
Put them all together— squash soup and salad with croutons–cash or credit Sir? And you have a psychotic warden warfare witch hunt–fighting forensic failings–flapping fidgeting fluttering flopping whipping backs to the wall in unsavoury conditions
When your head hurts like it has been delivered to the dog's den–destructive dead doctor deputy director's office–currently open and seeking members –run out of the room now. Before you get tainted taunted tattered over soil and grime
Yesterday when you took home the key for the future– for tomorrow–wednesday–and one day following the coming week –were you to think then–about the blood on the floor+?
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