the daily puzzle

 

 asylum of horror
  -or-
stadia of concern

 

 

 

out of the cornea, i rose from my stool, spit a mixture of blood and water into a bucket,

and stood, cross-eyed but beset w/ a singular, ocular goal. the fight would continue, but

i would now employ unconventional tactics. it may be (sleight) of diction, a cross-

section of modern linguistics; it will be a bout that continues, old-fashioned, for

countless rounds. until crowned w/ reknown, i will rinse and repeat; i'm a lexiconal

lifer.