08/30/2020
Floyd
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The wonders of the unseen world
The spirit of the Cotton Mather, with eyes closed and arms outstretched, dips languidly beneath the wooden huts and houses, the sweetly muddy streets of Salem of 1692, as if a divine faith were drawing him through the orthodox oceans, the puritanically purified breeding grounds of New England. Delivered from the adverse work of witches and messengers of Satan, spicy warm waves now waft through Mathers Massachusetts.
Straw flowers flow like bitter honey over stewing logs and wash the ashes in marshmallow moss, which candle bubbling brown evil herbs, smearing them with patch chocolate to form amber. Oh waves of goodness! Oh burning surf of caramel over smouldering trunks, sooty woods, evil images! Oh waves of warmth, wonders of the unseen world! Oh oil of salvation from all these wounds on arm-length aura for five or six hours.
Straw flowers flow like bitter honey over stewing logs and wash the ashes in marshmallow moss, which candle bubbling brown evil herbs, smearing them with patch chocolate to form amber. Oh waves of goodness! Oh burning surf of caramel over smouldering trunks, sooty woods, evil images! Oh waves of warmth, wonders of the unseen world! Oh oil of salvation from all these wounds on arm-length aura for five or six hours.
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