Simple Theories

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.

Jon’s here, an academy award winner. A terrific guy. These people are all like-minded, like all of us. They are all like towels, willing to absorb. They are like trampolines, ready to react against force as a force. They are like the hamster’s road to heaven, knowing gerbils get there first in the spinning cylinder. This is Clint Eastwood speaking. I have been inside coloured rooms with spayed cats and pieces of onion in sandwiches made by experts. I have been in closed rooms, where chairs exist. I have seen bathrooms in which water is natural. I have half a pencil in my pocket. Friends, I am friend. I speak with a capital letter at the beginning of every sentence. I include vowels in words. I look like a clock. I am Eastwood, exactly referred to sometimes. If you cannot whoop now, wishy washy mix of cleaning agents. Period. I will not go off the map, thanking the set designer, and frame by frame. Jon’s here, an academy award winner. A terrific guy. These people are all like-mind

Evolution began when people were ready. God had no excuses. The curling fires of instantly goes the barn up, then up in flames, is a rationale thru out history. Thinking to include the sun in converse then touching up the difference that difference makes: thus conclusion, a long-lasting foam. Invoked in a pattern of spray paint invective yet really trying on socks, this is the place for convening. Is there a tree upon which we all can roost? Facebook may face legal action from German.

People embracing the same cloud, spinning their bosons. People as quick as edited effusion downright, possible ranch where the next elephant can be first. A quick look asserts a practical side to terrorism. People have been fed with bell tones tuned to trickle theory. Trees in the offing insist on whistling to clouds, brash tactics for a new rocket season. Today will be the same thing as staking a witch. Same thing the dignity of arrows. Same thing rocketship to morass. A port opens in time for relief. War torn looks lovely this time of year.

Today, by the lake, toad meets frog. Today, grasping the last chlorophyll, dawn readies a set of instances. Today, just after the hour of reading dark, sky plummets to another news. A hand in the world lifts the saddest of occasions. Children practice their element in a version called Republican Hunger. That’s the cracking you hear, rhythmic and imposing. It’s the geyser on television that finishes sentences. It’s the practice of relearning the dead names for riot act. It is the pause before the smile. Fracking the heart of tension, toad and frog, toad and frog. Bo Diddley sits by the side of the rode, suitcase in his hand.