Twenty minutes of the first things that come to mind:
Hardly have I unicorns where the sun does not shine and the place of the angels sleeps not in the dark lest the light wakes the sweet nine noses of the gorgonzolas in the dish of non-cherries when the plates come out to play. Rap the popsicle in the verdure place. No, not that place. Another place. This where the teddies don’t need nice cleavers to hide in drawers. Curtains to the other side. Close them. Close them in diamonds and pearls. Sweat does not hide a hind leg when it’s left in an unusual place. A third place. What is this place? What are these places that keep cropping up in unicorn lands? Should they be named? Do we have time to do that before the cup goes cold? Too many questions cropping up for my movement towards frozen and my edifice will burn without friction. Strike a light in the beam of the silly bean. Rolling on the desk. Swill out the string. Beans are sitting around waiting for the first spring of five hundred. This will come before twenty. Hopefully, the hidden depths of knowledge won’t need to become conscious before burdens fall into almost, nearly, almost dreams. Dreams in place of night time are always here. The chair waits for you to do the ultimate thing. No, not sacrifice. No, not dreams. There are too many dreams for them to please – some not true – at least not in the nude. But don’t sacrifice your evident pushing. I will not pull you. I will push instead, from behind, where it’s almost safe to drive, providing the bends don’t take me. I couldn’t bare it. You wouldn’t bear it. Seldom do the two co-join. Often they leave where the axe hits the arc – right at the top. They don’t always wait for the drop. Grease the laugh inside of me. Wait for a second and a third word to climb out of the untidy places. Do you find this to be acceptable? In hidden places, the subtle points wait in order that they might stab her in the tiny eyes between roll and royal. And did you notice more places slip in there like they were trying to steal a base, even though I have no idea what that means? The funk. Do not have evidence. You cannot find it secreted. No-one will think to look in the shower. Why would they? It would be as strange as finding a cat in your pyjamas. Serendipity is another word that gives me pause. A quiet space in the park where antelope never roam, and over the hill comes the anti-cavalry. There are very few words that I know how to spell. I never did know what was wrong with that, but obviously, there is something, otherwise you would not be grazing my eyes with your hip in an anonymous abandon of style, and a slightly dense smile to end.