All the gray trees Dead Deer- Road Kill. Pop a Hyat in the middle! All the green Now Red- Now Plastic. But at least there’s a new shake shack! No reflect- ion. None. Just microfibers just tainted green suns on old fields with grass? Dividing lines on black billboard skies. Buy me buy faith- and save all those who refuse to wait for filth- for gray. Know the lane ends here cause big big cars crash- body, last- now grip-latch onto lash after lash after lash after lash after lash after lash after lash after lash after lash after lash after after lash after lash on Mother Nature’s back.
