Do Round Out The Base Metal

You might ask where's the technique? Exactly Where is it? There are days the words rush to the finish line with first across setting the winning tone for the silver, the bronze A few odd laggards still race do manage do round out the base metal brigade Where would we all be without the utility players? at times the canvas is drenched in the floral colours of imagination dripping down slowly, slowly only to be swallowed up by the great beneath bloody red profanity purple prose the sedate egg shell of infantile drooling All it may take is a memory, a jolt an old war wound a familiar face baby's breath or a jagged bone poking flesh looking up for the first time in a place you thought you knew looking back in time or in space sometimes the message is taken screaming to the scaffold where it faces the executioner who nails the letters one by one to the gallows then there are times it is but a whisper that fades so gently in all that's air... However it begins always it continues...