Here's a new cut-up that's so thick with ambiguous imagery I had to title it appropriately. Now, I'm not going to say it's 100% abstract wordplay, but I won't deny that was the main intention. Enjoy.
Scheming glass foreheads
hang from meat hook realities
like cartons of 2% milk
teetering on the edge of supermarket metal.
Serenity puffs on nervous curiosity
which scabs the tongue
while the sputtering street lamp of chance
in the reflection of midnight's fuel.
I am the recruiter of torment,
the uniform controversy favors
and the squeaking footstep
fear tries to silent.
Flush your good intentions
and join my army of vacant faces.