Holding neon leopard antlers you zipline across the valley. A calm sky and high cloud watch with the sound of a buzzing aircraft above. A conduit lemon wire around my wrist assesses my conduct. Dark holes in the ground. Holes all around out of which the sound of rain caresses your ears. With the heavy weave of my jute trousers chafing my legs. And the large ostrich egg organ keys in my mind. And the seven godly wounds in the sky. The shining, the bright convex reflection, a grim frown of a bleeding mouth, and an obstacle course designed for a much more fit version of myself. A friend with good hair with a bouncing rubber mallet attack the wooden dowels into their rain filled orifices. A gloomy look from a dice that rolled two. A tall towering tree housing piano keys unlock a sordid door in the ground. A cold fox shivering. A poor construction of a model robot by an amateur hand. Several eyes surprised on the trunk of the tree as the robot walks. The aircraft falls from the sky narrowly missing the mouth below my floating corpse. Awareness returns. Reanimated we see a golden glow enveloping the hills. And the covers of your bed provide sanctuary for you and the fox. A point of light and newly summoned silence. Hovering above the holes the fliers fly and my mind loses it’s goblin teeth keyboard. Discordant jazz threatens my friends. Disordered thoughts and a carrion crow sing to them. A wall of sound. The zipline’s searing string snaps and falls. As the holes open up. And the tree is felled. And all the lights fade to black. Too many songs madden the mind as she she thinks a new world into life. A easel and a brush. Just water and earth to use as paint. The fox goes swimming in search of fish. The endless becomes a finish line split into two. One for me and one for you. A spirit seeking shelter occupies your desire. A vacant messenger agog from seeing too much. As twelve pigeons land out of the night sky each carried a rough piece of bark. New lights appear as the air splits in two. The bed crumbles and we both wake up. A sun is born in the sky as the day starts anew. And frequencies of energy connect us with the great fissure. Two wildcats chase the pigeons and then flee our gaze. The robot beeps and flickers white hot sparks. Keeping the earth a glow. With seasons coming and going. And all around us in the know. There’s nothing to know here. Where all the dark contains light and all brightness is blunted. A greyscale jelly. A jelly and a tube. Including apparatus for detection. I cannot fathom aeons of authority, a whole lot of passed down belief, manifest as excuses not to ask questions. Sat here the world collapses and sings a last goodbye. Water in a cup ripples at the end. Seventy percent of the sky burns away. Leaving us stuck in a weak atmosphere. A lunge towards the switches out of reach. Cliffs cave in. The seas engulf the land. The sickness spreads. Dissipating a decay from the godly synth in the ever diminishing sky. We renew our pacts and promises amongst this chaos. Compartmentalising and comparing without meaning to. As we go to books on the shelf we start a resistance to lonely ignorance and isolating power. A colossal store of information connects everything until we animals seek retreat. Earthly paintings drip down our skin. Markings of meaning. The mouth begins to talk. As we sit around feeding each other and settle down for the continuation of our stagnant journey on the wet rock we call home amongst the stars and the huge planet sized aliens that outnumber us all quietly and secretly enjoying themselves in the abyss.