Zdzislaw Beksinski
Like the snail traversing the paving stone desert toward the desperate shingle, a journey from A to whenever.
Like the rabbits by the busy road edge, hemmed in between danger and the unquenchable need to reproduce - fucking with an eye on the road; living in fear.
Like the spider in his web entangled, unsure if he wishes to be a spider, but needing to feed.
Like a caterpillar feeding on the leafy suburbs of silent and perfect facade.
The paranoid suburbs, close to a town near you, where the eternally grateful sheep are penned in with the wolf - that he may feed on what he will in exchange for their protection.
Like the just-walked dog being asked to go back into the car to be driven home to a home with no garden, a home without garden is no home for a just-walked dog.
Like the rabbits by the busy road edge, hemmed in between danger and the unquenchable need to reproduce - fucking with an eye on the road; living in fear.
Like the spider in his web entangled, unsure if he wishes to be a spider, but needing to feed.
Like a caterpillar feeding on the leafy suburbs of silent and perfect facade.
The paranoid suburbs, close to a town near you, where the eternally grateful sheep are penned in with the wolf - that he may feed on what he will in exchange for their protection.
Like the just-walked dog being asked to go back into the car to be driven home to a home with no garden, a home without garden is no home for a just-walked dog.
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