SCOTCH TAPE UNLEASHES X-RAY POWER!

Devoid of purpose, the porpoise will trace the shoals.
Snipers are always thinking about supple temples.
Plumbers understand: natural gas mains quicken suicide allure.
And steaks: steaks don't understand nothing but blanket sauce.
It says the photons create energy as they de-adhere, enough energy.
That you can X-Ray your finger in the nimbus of the unspooling.
That Byzantine charges don't alarm applicants with fetid credit.
They just slap them on like some caste patina, like lotto splooge.
You still haven't inquired as to the why and the what of this seedling.
This prerogative of unearned providence, this trophy-coated plaque.
It reads, silent lies sustain the surely seasoned despite surmise.
Maybe something I might make in my mind, a something short of nuance.
Micron photography composes shrunk porters to ravage the rationale.
And display the flags of the nameless countries under the sea.