Communist Dice

She walks the circular broken dream configuration of cage doors welcoming unopened customers. Black wall reflections appear as a woman. Sickle and hammer red to crimson her t-shirt, joker of denim tucks inside lucky thirteen night crawler sneakers. Somebody is watching; she cares not. This round about show doth bring confusion; convincing herself of another lost moment she rather not dwell grief.

Five is full of shelves for every type, bigger than asterisk couple clauses or trigger cross hairs, smaller than credit from a red and purple thing; surely some hate it while others love it.

Dice rolls the streets of Brooklyn.

"What did you get off the hustle this throw?"

"A new wallet..."

"What's the material?"

"Hemp....."

Holidays routinely inanimate; technology bores the minions. Board of deception includes the middle man and the dealers.

"What do you suppose it will be like there?"

"Nothing like here...."

"What will we find there?"

"Something that is not here."

"What would that be?"

"Our sanity....."

We used to function properly from hazy recollection; introduce the man of disambiguation. The land of honey and tea parties; we bring forth our children.

Babylon names a plan; hanging gardens fall from spider fingers. Symbols do not implicate pronunciation or annunciation; the lesson of actual dialect.

"You want them to look absurd and ridiculous."

"Absolutely...."

"Something to laugh about....."

"Some things which will not be humorous at all but rather funny...."

"They will be chaotic in appearance."

"They are chaotic thus the appearance will match."

"We will be forced to commune with them one day."

"That day I hope surely will be one as I am not of a temper to stay."

"I am not of seriousness as you; I will burst into laughter come what may."

"Be it so this will confuse those who desire tyranny instead of humanity."

"Then you will be the Queen of the Dead and you will be the Queen of the Abyss."

Illusion swears by the machine, god amongst the godless, reality which they seek; the machine is abysmally dead. Provisions do not imply unlimited quantities.