Arrive in neurotica
Through neon heat disease
I swear at the swarming heards
I sweat the foul terrain
I rove the moving scenery

I have
no fin –
no wing –
no stinger –
no claw –
no camouflage

I have –
no more to say…

You know it’s that kinda day when you wind up with King Crimson songs stuck in your head.