Oil Spill

Gasoline streets will be deceased by way of electrocution. Slicks are recreated with the electric light blasted on the wet wooden partition: post no bills. Otherworldly oil spill. Recharge batteries compulsively like chemical chains in brain sensory. Jewels of the new century. Some stay asleep in front of a screen. Entranced by glowing information growing into a giant yet staying put. The electromagnetic pulse blinds the structures and the black out knocks out many. It’s just too much. Where are all the fuels going to lead us too? Baby, it’s cold outside is on the radio. Remember the baby, but the Son is the one to look for in the internal combustions of the soul. A home of eternal excellencies sparked by the prince of peace. A gift with your hand-written name on it each moment unwrapping thanksgiving, the life.