Street-Rider's One Liners.
street-rider's thoughts strung together by my own hand.

The Queen Gator's rise of weeds
are swept under the carpet, and
the stone carver's sex dreams
hide in a locket closet. While

villians team up on the mystery train
to feed on the fleas of visions unexplained;

the Baptist Muscle called upon a rigid ghost
whose diet of lies cause a blonde violent toast.

Satisfied with the enemy, the empty Gator Queen
wallpapered the bastard's banner for security.

To this, the ten ton cranium of a liver critic claimed, "Unremarkable art!"
with the voice of a cynic.