Arraignment of Steve Jobs,
Baking of Steve jobs,
Penciling in of stave jobs,
Boiling of Steve jobs,
Dotting of stave jobs,
Fulcrum of Steve jobs
The exhaustive moment provides wobbly things. Blue skies were noted at certain times, with a green aura from trees of considerable standing. When it comes to detergent, any powder or thick liquid will do. The shaman grows tired with effort and embracing.
Earlier would be a shrub, proud in its distinct gravity of barrier or landscape placement. Eager as can be, with radiant sun effect causing photosynthetic response, shrub grows almost tall. Shaman can foretell rooftops, extreme clouds, and cleaning the lint filter. The shrub describes there.
Soap remains grand, with disparate smells. Socks ever test the journey. Plaid will surprise you.
Epileptic shaman rolls on Laundromat floor, howls for sky with diamonds. Like that, the sock of the moment transfigures. And we are serious
going to lengths about the middle of the road. Too many pieces of the puzzle fell to the floor. Rendered as exasperation then made into resolve, so the puzzle creates a dynamic time which becomes constancy for moments at a time.
Still, when the washer stops dramatically, the shaman’s perch always shakes. Moderate and careless drier continues to hum. Perception is in the eye of the percept, or when will likely stories remain the same?
Shaman with well-folded and springtime freshness.
Baudelaire sits on a rooftop and names a cloud Chantez. So organized, the brisk tonnage of water vapour performs a momentary interruption of quiet. Baudelaire shows his teeth, calls it a smile.
Rimbaud dumps recalcitrant letters in blue ink on whitish paper. His skill becomes a deadly verbal puttering among locus, colours, showdown, and strait. We laughed at inception, but then we stuttered.
Verlaine’s laughable mansard roof barely covers the locution. Can you be more specific or spoiled, Sir? Your tax rate is only special for a moment.
Everything French has been done.
Lorine Niedecker took hold of the boy. Torque. Celia was often Louis, Louis was Paul. Clouds as big as explaining doddered to an afternoon. The stagnant lake learns to burp.
Dear Ape in the Beginning,
I found the flower you spoke of. It sits in the kitchen like three paths into a busy forest. Each track remains bent by the last senator to give adman preference to the total askance. The senator’s version will remain “tickled”.
Before we could clean up the reverie, a fearsome wave of no chance bucked over the horizon. It left us politically coarse, with a bridge to callow. Congressional haircuts moved a-pace. The scene shifts as do the senators. Congressional reps fall for poison.
Were you planning to leave on a junket to hotspots early this morn or were you spotting the effort of sunrise nowadays? Moon sightings have been vague and unending. Blame the handicapped marsh. I have to know three things by midday, and the clock is running.
If you ever leave the beginning, could you give me a call. My number is a lot like 7, but I cannot slice the data further.
Meanwhile, I verge on greatness, tho with coffee stains on my papers. Everything otherwise looks proper for association. Please reply stat.
Best regards like awesome,