the restless wave

shrill, like a piercing pin crumbles the inflated turd; landing and setting off alarms with a thud: soft touch, horrendous stink and janitors rush in to clean but a slippery slope makes for a a hard fall - thud; they landed on their bottom with much bruises, curses, whining till the turd resurfaces; got mad, raised eight arms, eight eyes, eight shadows they followed the blue collared workers home, to brainstorm on how ineffective they were at execution, till the heads rolled, like lava spilling forth on cracked skin; a pimpled face, burst, like a balloon pops in the high sky, and below the restless sea, heaves, rolls, groans as ashes pile on, rain on, leave their stain on oceans once clean. that's not very nice - cracked skin thins, pimply ones look smooth again, their poison reeks at the bottom tossing, turning, trying to rid the stink now permeating on the inside; sediments gather and mount a challenge arising from deep beds tossing, turning blue collared workers as stink infiltrates their slumber - slurp this mess a turd waves a giant sword crumbles on touch when nightmarish horses rush from ocean beds eager to take part in a poke, a squeeze, a shout point taken. rumbles, moans, lashes out with turd ashes breezing in the wind and the air became dense, hot, livid from sulphur strong. tsk, tsk, too much an uphill climb, the waves they roll, toss, spin, churn. to vomit out the insides till the many arms, many eyes, many shadows see night once more. sleep, sleep. snores, slumbers away but the sea, the janitors, they found firm footing when restless earth refuses to spin another tale. quiet down, hushed, still then the turd lay still, laid down flushed away into the toilet bowl, where turds go.