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Showing posts from November 22, 2015

Content Discovery with Story

Goal Tractor Beam of love in spaces between declarations that people aren't real. They evolved from plenty of rocks, the way we think. This establishes the presence of a cave called brain. The brain is donald trump or other for the soon seas will seize. Cannot language wins again.

Donald Trump Retweets

If we had a poem like an antelope, that could,with proximate force, exert the certainty of at least one word, not just that justice doesn't include the presidential race, we could, imagine, the spaces between dark. The dyslextopia of only so much lies between us.

Robert Creeley with the Time to Plant a Rose

If we could satisfy patient interest and moonbeam along exact road not dust trail. Verb will stand as a sense of moment. And then we decide fervid blandishment articulated in collapse, because we think poetry can't work. There was a town called Oddity where we kept our children sad. We will now donate our stupid to elastic temperance, a form of language. With language, we call. The roof seems unstable, the portico admits nonsense. Presidential hopeful isn't how we breathe. Robert Creeley's pants began in Arlington, which was a time or so, and grew more in Acton, on the coast of nouns. Most nouns leave home. This is not to say the war will win, only that the stupid of stones vote often with their verbs. It cannot stop looking, the thing donald trump load. It presents a guess at dynamics by way of slurring speech, even the very noun in which the present of the heart demands a free aorta. Free all aortas, and the quotidian in the day that sends dusk to let us rest

Content Discovery with Story

Goal Tractor Beam of alert love in spaces between declarations that people aren't real. They evolved from plenty of rocks, the way we think. This establishes the presence of a cave called brain. The brain is donald trump or other than marvelous power for the soon seas will seize. Cannot language wins again.

Autonomic Sentiment

Trump decides verb, turn entangle angle feel saffron. Locus viewpoint where are we sod. Said compote flew=flavorful bullshit. You are ready any tidewater's unmistakable showstopper of exult munition. We need poems even so.