nomos

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Abstract
No ordinary muscle opens superstition's nest or miscarries of simulacrum, nettles one's metaphysics or splits nude orphans merrily on Sunday nor on Mondays or swings numbskull over metempsychotic owls, slaying netherworld's odious monarch. Of such noble's oddity may oesophagus sputter nothing obscene, may only see neurotic ordeal's magnetism. Our soul's natural opportunism mocks overwrought self, nods off, makes overtures, simpers now or mumbles opprobrious soliloquy. No other mind offers such nemesis or matches our slippery nourishment of moldy onion substances, nauseous oncogenic messes, on sight. Nurseling of mob obliges, strums notes on mankind's organs, steadily nudging our memories of swift nothings, of mutiny, of soaring naked over mimetic origins, sleeping nights on maelstrom or sipping neutered oyster milk.

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