The Frog and the Rabbit

Prime rose confetti drifts into dreams,
Tiny cities made of ashes,
Centre to the path showered in acrylic light,
Its resin gives the vehicles it’s wheels,
Little green bags litter the roads,
A reverand at every corner,
Issuing blessings and hail marys to every racer,
Purity in a cereal box of cantankerous faith,
Following a frog in a checkerd suit, tie driving a 32 coupe,
We encircle the hounds we chase down,
Out to the outskirts of town,
Until a white rabbit playing a trombone calms us down,
The hounds gather their pace away from us as we gather our rainbow of thoughts at the moss bridge at the edge of town,
We turn our engines off gather our tails,
Puff vapor cigarretes and drown flasks of absolute vodka,
Drink absinthe from nymph’s shoes,
We howl at the wolves and the wolves howl back,
We appear to have won,
Sky rockets burst into arrays of red confetti,

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