2021-11-03: Untitled

Plastic effigies roam the sea, no starboard or otherwise, sandwhich bags pass as permits, simple obligations from where they drearily drink tea.

Day by day, shaped like a gyre, montonous labyrinthine symposiums, word by word, waits for knotted guts to spill forth, oh wait, pull over, another flat tire.

They say many things, those circling sheep, concepts blend into the next, the world seems clouded and hazy, when do we truly drift off to sleep.

Though in not so many words one could say encouragingly, from dreams comes responsibility.