. . . and since guesses extract the lower pink

rehearsal seems the pleasure source
the pressured flux surpassing fragrance
of the wood close to cement
that nurtures chorded interstitial whispers
that take indented trouble aka a liturgy
depending on illiteracy to f/unction
while each ornamental hip hop striates daytime
to impound the health one brags about
while gigs sog forward
in a blur of heathen appetite