Trajectorially, Blackpool flattened sand sacrifices, the bitter end of American country miles, Pony Express livestock lying in dead dust.
Amateur zoology caught his attention span, mimicking zoo-keepers, flying voices on spit vertebrae, money get gad-handed mimics.
Boxed gift of living locusts, hands of a hostile career-break comic became a happening – ‘Moses! Where’s Moses?!’ – Men looked over, away from his pen-friend, the faux.
Gift of feed for solitary confined devil’s messengers, temperature controlled love and hate, if you look, and a bed needs making, if you look, and a constrictor’s escape route right there, ‘see it?!’
Eventual lost locusts, lost biographies on low heat, melting away on acidic paper.