dead-end angel topples nicely falls asleep dreams it up prates it silly as the centipede aerated in its own coital flow states “no mama no papa we the demiurge endlessly eggs” coughed and moped about erasing the head crawled through its legs entered the parasol a mindless elegy frowned while basking towards the lonewolf biting teeth with great thoth like cognizance of cartesian mutilation stinging tongues diagonally athwart terrestrial placentas and stormy slavering gusts . . .