Eternal Funeral

The final 17 years of American singer and musician Karen Carpenter, performed almost entirely by modified Barbie dolls.

Rather pointless, rather stilted, fetid; not what we want us going after.

Don't ask me why, but I feel we're about to cry trying.

Say Om as you reach home only to realize you never really left/stopped saying Om.

Abandoning the Abaddon-loathed abandoner opens plenty of reclaimed... everything(s).

It's time the times met each other over & over.

Lights flicker & fade as focus shifts from artificial to natural light, ending on a second artificial light speeding through the blackened miasma...

Beyond all human restraint lies one's lugubrious layers of paint.

Wax and wane until there is naught but boring pain.

Lines align during acclimated apexes, shadowy vertices, and bright burrows.

Trite, closed memories flagrantly bleed into profuse openings mixed & held together by retaliatory colorations & obfuscations.

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