“Butter salt pepper tea bags nostrils game fish deer Antelope sneaking telescope nodding off at the rifle range grease gather in the corners of sun lit fighter jets ready to launch at the first sign of snowfall when tears freeze and anger defrosts lining up in circles up the down ladder over barrels of beer and flasks of bourbon drenched in wine awaiting the nearly virgin nuns arrival at the baptism of 17 monkeys captured escaping Paradise they thought Paradise was too nice something dirty please muddy and twisted lacking manners or a conscience would suit the scene just right as nightfall beckons and the princess sleeps hungover from the previous nights flogging of unruly servants gathering that went too late for so gentle a soul.”

2020-01-14 – Tim Love – 01 – Tea Time In Tunis