Skip to main content

It is Time Equality Bore it Scythe

Evolution is bullshit, said the Robespierre of underwear. Ontological and on for the best treatise, desperate to make due. Require hens in gardens, backdoors, fading statements of urinary tract infections, ulteriour motive as a sublime forecast. Expect delays in the rush toward where the moon beams. Partners, the future net describes a halo, with relax fit jeans as a model. Purple waves of racy grain ingratiates the topic sentence to violet juncture with the rabid cause. Inside revolution are little people sticking words into actions and actions into sentences. Sometimes the bell rings with flowers, sometimes the language is the gall.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Fine Political Summation

  jagged resemblance to truth  floridly spring flowers pang  rock crusted ontological squat  serious stubborn box conclusion  peppered trail pending slower  overage undone of starting on  It's a holy war royal ooze  Stoop Herd Toxic tocsin  I’ll oil decline wall burn  bum burn bum
Post a Comment
Read more

A List of Words

It begins with a scanning of light, a settlement of words. The lightly fracture of Bird sound begins in the office of seeing. Not sentiment but sense, as cool as Green in the Early days. Pasture resists nonpasture, no one Refers to none. All remains including nothing. Morning Is belief and there simply there. Tides go freshly to the point.
Post a Comment
Read more

The Left of Intention

Blistered arrangement in Obama's plant. That plant is excised with cultured cells looking for the sun. Obama brands name in this stampede, and we leak alert. A new orange smokes upon the evening landscape, parlance for yesterday, then blue over the gushing land today. Stay happy with Obama, or paralax, or the motion across the kitchen floor, of something. Something secret leaves the hives. Something secret seeks the plant. The plant is poised like anything. Tussle continues, with new verbs vectoring the continuation. Obama bravely last the night, sweatshop slogan. Our President, haply, but effort contorts all known regions of meaning. The South, for instance, the West, the North and its East, and so on, dilations. There was a lake above. A blue and now it is shining morning lake. It was above, like the cat, or even more, when we are attuned. Obama battles with all words, Even as the proposition institutes some collision hardly to be compelled. All this exceeds ramifications. Our Pr...
Post a Comment
Read more