Skip to main content

Yours to Deal With

Clacking sounds similar to onions. Vida Blue in Oakland teapot, relaxing full of tea. Grampus Americans settled for Dick Cheney luncheon meat, vice capital and when we go home. Sentences are Republican, tho not to a fault. We have spheres of TVs sitting near our academy. Listen to Steve Jobs.

Steve Jobs woke to the fame of being perfectly right. It was a sentence without virus, and astonished the voters of saying so.

German war machine includes great video excerpts. American war machine meets Russian war machine, while gypsies in Bulgaria reform the present tense. Hitler was a party gal.

Maoist rubber pants protect, as do Stalinist rubber pants. The baby is well, tho needs a brass bottom. Tenderness of hit man in the season of wet blankets, lilacs remain in the dooryard, province of taste. Klingons fly off handle, leaving handle to itself.

Hitler party girl dolled up like pine. Deciduous references need a day or two. A poem is propped to matter. This is how Dick Cheney got thru school.

Dick Cheney refused to over educate, instead he was pronounced. The Klingons swept thru, only examining a washed ashore grampus. Shore is for old folks, who swim by laying down.

A poem is light like Steve Jobs, filled with ammo, like Dick Cheney, and tells a good registration re Stalin. Fight with farts, expert ticking machine. Your heartbeat is overclocked. Vide Blue must rest for the big game in the past.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Words

  From the thing itself, beyond seasoned aptness. Life is like living but blurred by you were listening. Aspect ratio telemetry in myriad languages smooth as rocks approaches time to look. Words piece together things or things find words. Endlessness is a choice, written big in words as shiny as geese. Words simply take the time in radiation and radical point. Stein wrote the heft of nothing special, start there or whatever. You can slowly adjust the franchise, commodity's inner workings. Subglacial quips, subliminal washouts, frantic azure in the breeze of frosty Friday: these special sparking hallways slyly enjoin. Maybe you read too much into reading too much. Further on is where you’ll stay.
2 comments
Read more

A Child’s Proletariat Garden

  The work becomes chiding of sunlight. The work is elegy and shaded. The principle ciphers as a god, in the way transience is purpose. Transience works this brief, ending fields, making trees concern. The hell of halting midway identifies the work of burning thru. Forever makes a sign. Sign makes worthy. Indeed the tramp of feet forward concludes any sentences but suggests more. Long sentences, stupid words. The caroling heard by Dante, brilliantine remorse for a better tide. The long road up from down, and turned around. The work then becomes the work now, as stained glass similitude. Anxious in the class structure of catastrophe, the baying song over all. Nothing to do but be done. Ruskin gave you papers to remind you. Slow battering concedes the earth in time. Time being functional and oblique. The worker inside sees the nation by exhalation. Transitive connection sports of culture. The class that ends becomes the class that begins, both left and right.
1 comment
Read more

A Screed Left Town

  Inside the excuse for nation: leafy tractors (any bonding to the brownness of earth will do). A day’s march from the next day’s march, the love amongst us on a map. The map shows citadel, city in a dell, and abounding fields. The trees have effort to contend with. Bears chuff to excess in a workfarm spring. Something tall rises on the plain. Mills confirm the need for rivers. Troops stop where the food is. Terror provides the function for non-terror, in zones described as war-like. Pictures become words for people sighing. One sees a lack of food, or especial jewels, or the need for frocks made from bison. Another tower seems important for a nation’s existence, one taller than might. It will seem like tradition. You and I are left to explain.
Post a Comment
Read more