Hell

Hello. How can you stand there, looking at the blazing sheep flying across the sky? Do you count when you can’t sleep? Do you go towards the light? Do you wonder why? I don’t think the answer lies in the mouse string hat. Love is the cruel table crushing a tornado. You are the key tackle box in the stars. Come play me a miracle. Play me a doo-wop. Circus trains come close to bullet couches. Hell has no future. Yes, that is the last hefty hanky paddle!

Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger, Advocate

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