assassination of painting

I drape your cataclysmic carnival instincts in purple straddled masonic need
A corollary junction bringing supine slither slacked smoke stacks
Joined at the left outer concentric crumbled cortex stoke macks
Take the flavored perchance and you’ll never know mediocrity
That’s what they say anyway a bunch of vine hanging snapdragons
Dangling on the wooden number two pencil damper erased smudge
Maybe it’s not too late to crumple the cackle cackled cacklers font
Or the woven sheets of rainy paper caught in tabled gravity
Either way
You know?