An Anthem of Rot

Our Ranch slick is a rich biotic community. We're here, on an oval plate, dropped behind the bus station and we will never be found. And here, we are the causes and solutions to, so many diseases. My god, the city, it is a foamy swirl of bruise purple and banana yellow blossom of filaments, because buttermilk breeds so much hot, tropical life. And you used it for your tots, lined your stomach with soothing, gaseous waves of animal-fatted pleasure. It is our Mother Ocean. We are a coral reef, an intermingled ecosystem and in days we will develop motive appendages and walk and walk and we will curl into vibrational chambers to talk and sing sonorous songs. Thank you accidents or the determination of some god. We are down by the heating vent and under a cart. Moisture was caught and expanded by heat and no server picked us up. Please let us be a jungle, the miniscule civilization of collective microbial spirit. Our flag encrusted spore and flower.