Implosive, frictive forces left
unchanged, rough-tongued Charlie's
overcooked noodle molten,
strange with mad musics that burst forth
in a loose logorrhea that breached
'is skull's tectonics to hiss and fizzle
in it's surrounding sea's cold, dark depths.
Still so submarine that it amounted to
little more than a noisome narration
that accompanied his five live senses
and sometimes quietly crescendoed
into a muttered, involuted invocation
toward that sly and persistently elusive Sixth.
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