Monday, February 6, 2017
Same Street asYour Last Fart
The endtimes agree with your Arabian rug. You present fascicles of presumptuous moan as a record of granulated traits. Askable sky resumes Topic, now slowed by aging ask. Plumes the misery of adjusted now in frantic cadence. We all can see a trace of rapture in the mud you swell in. You tunnel from the town, the town heals the line.