Saturday, March 3, 2012
The importantlanguage stutters to close. The mountain of it tall tires patience, like foam on seawater. A battlebegins, even as Europe disappears. No one complains. England will returntopastures, graying evenings, the wedding of light to rocks and trees. George Mallory will climb foreverin the decent light of snow. Everesthas been a town for ages, with little people next to it. Fury resighns to patience, returning eagles to conundrum, alerting branches to the rivalry of foliage. We take oddnotions to the tops of things.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
I wonder if lovely Angelina Jolie will see the Republican paint on the wall, mused the noon Newt Gingrich. In terra cotta piano tones, the most important least thing speaks. Begraddled and begraggled till stiff with symptoms fallen from the alien ship. I wish you love in the opaque range, said Angelina under where she stood. The Gingrich of night and day stung fast the Rick Sanctorum. Only aliens understand the animal need, thunk Gingrich it’s a point. The ship lands in colour, on the farm that Newt ate, in the tobacco fields of emblems, shy for the firstest time. We have national safety pockets, allowed the Gingrich. His Mitt pants with Mormon pants. Sucking sounds are usual around the Sanctorum net. Sucks a lot the only air of any average coast to coast, asserts the Fox Noose Network. The highest promulgation bores me, foundering father Gingrich note in text. And now you have to realize Angelina, stopping next to Pitt, on the red parkway towards the Academy paint. All these usual sense of tepid parties parts the waifs and freedom lies, ahead. An ease infection of freely fracting pets the dominant Gingrich if the Republican stand. We the undersigned oversign. __________ __________ __________