Hazy Days

Plants have integrity too, he says!

When confronted with harsh iniquity, oppressive heat, they transiently produce a small little fucker of a molecule, a four carbon chain bastard that exited his mother's womb abruptly, prematurely and was christened, Isoprene. So this spade... beset on all sides with a glut of siblings, lodges himself, perhaps for a couple of hours in the lipid bilayer of the leaves of... say Aspen, for the sake of integrity. 

But when the heat subsides, when all fear is gone, what do you do with this spawn of adulterous copulation? It evaporates profusely from the leaves of the said tree, no longer of use, dissipating into the flowing cosmos. Blue haze from this congregation of Isoprene brotherhood, give jagged rocks, their name: Blue-Ridge Mountains.

Ah recalled in mah infinite solitude, a lonely molecule, ripped from mah berth, the words of the prophet Isaiah:

But draw near hither, ye child of the sorceress,

the seed of the adulterer and the whore.

Against whom do ye sport yourself?

Against whom make ye a wide mouth, and draw out the tongue?

Are ye not a child of transgression, a seed of falsehood?