I can't see it but I can feel it in the air like a thousand butcher knives, hung facing downward from a low ceiling.
Tonight, my lunacy translates to its literal meaning and its scorn is the big, white ass in the car door window. Damn that demon bitch with her palid white eye opened at full and staring through cloud colored glasses so she can be felt but unseen in this maniacal coffee bar filled with junkies. My moon is the calmest of them all creating virulent madness in her devious hidden corner of the coffee bar sky.
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