Friday, September 7, 2012

Pampering the Patience of Upgrade

Ann’s dress is a crater on newly-liberated Mars.

Michelle’s is a process of liberation intoned in Quadrant Sector B.

A dress is the remaining persiflage after asymptotes. No one asks asymptotes until too late.

Michelle’s hairstyle is alleviation. Ann’s causes hurricanes or nector.

Trees propel landscape into older centuries, the ones that worked.

Rocks have no wishes.

Michelle’s dress carries the party. Ann’s feels the remorse.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Behind the Alley was a Yard and then More


Brimming blue to the extent of a rocketship spinning into a deli, that moment. Then the distracting sport of seeing, right before you. Eventually, we'll do very targeted advertising.

We are joined in the murk of simple creation, then necessarily a debate between two sides suits the same line. Nether clint eastwood waggles a finger at a chair, instantly attends the chair, and its structure.

Everything can be said again, or printed on burning sheets of paper. Everything else is left over. Else is the point, in space.

Stupid makes stupid look stupid. Strands of wire hold up the stars, a doctor decides on which truck to buy, a planet earth sunlight makes the sky blue. A 65-year-old man presents complaining of dizziness.

When the grease on Mitt Romney’s head melts, time will tell.

Field Guide to Wildflowers

Practical spots on the sun. Isn’t it anything problem? Am I really hungry, when I door? Pleasant vacation we saw water. And after that, we saw food. Stores. A sun more than exactly above the world. A wharf, alongside water, attractively attended to. A candle on a table. A lady who serves things. A gent who does something important. Classes that tell you. Class levels to position you, me, and all the them. Needed for clarification.

Ironman, Thor, Hulk, Black Widow in time for doing exactly the right when all others do the wrong. Samson and the power to knock over. Hercules and the power to over produce. Bruce Jenner and the power to eat wheatflakes for breakfast. Michelle Obama and that means what it takes. Wife of Paul Ryan as the second whatever. Caped crew seder, whatever that means.

Dear Lowell, we were there in your night. Axioms were made for sloth and that sort of thing., Taxes bend for yours as well as some of ours. Poverty’s a grand prank practiced upon the unknowing. Put up or shut hop.

Dear Lowell, big trees mean nothing. Poems form on the edge of actions that the Avengers take for granted, except disjunction often makes things different. Lowell, lower your embassy into the mucky canals which, after all, aint useful now. Embassy, remind us why we convene.