World crazy man-man of crazy World – Motorbike rider dragging Hells Angels two ankles at a time,..

Motorbike rider dragging Hells Angels two ankles at a time, World crazy man doing this thing to crazy World men.
Blood-lust and speed.
Highlight the backslash on his back, taking back that back-talk, killing his words with an axe-head blunt side up.
Bike rasping, a cleansing fast dust aurora smelt and tasted, senseless and sane, and all the same, Slab City, ‘The Slabs’ ahead.
Sleeping beside a growing Foxglove flower, Fox the creature, no relation but name, named each other, gone separate ways, beautiful for bees, a running cunning thing.
Heat exhaustion on top of bicycles and donkeys, wandering sands like Don Quixote, or so you think.
Fly from there, from a tree’s big branch, go to a friend, no one there.
Now building shelter in a cool zone and it falls down on a head and a body.
Wrong turnings and a motorbike crash-lands, a careless wit was soft dosing on the monotony.
Sitting naked, golfers play over a corpse in a sandpit, a fox in a rigid body jacket.
Jump into a golf cart, pulling golfers four ankles at a time, World crazy man doing this thing to crazy World men.
Blood-lust and speed.

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