But their crazy spew ears stops.
Move the leader.
Avoid new homes.
The window broke
And inrush the storm –
there is one water.
Here, Exception enjoys the maintenance of ale as the contradictory table of silk.
The new agglomerate is still cute.
The latest description applies.
Vans and Wrights are a blacker flight –
approach twang Easter plaques from wealth to sleeping plates,
watch for a lack of synchronicity and a weak stage presence.
Astronomy emits Tambourine ions, trust carbon unicycles.
Seek conjoined kilns in the rose garden,
avoid geese and snow squalls.
Old-fashioned binary compound needs watching.
Avoid being a bit of astrology roast logy when meeting new strangers.
His grandfather’s last name was Inoswego –
He was robed in feverish thinking –
an Absurdist Aliens’ Allegory
etched on the eyes
ascetic, harshly featured saints.
His shaky hands,
like an octopus swimming in a hot broth,
wrote the lines in stark rainbows
on the walls of his twilight room.
WALL STANZAS 1 – 4
In the land of the Chimera,
every tchotchke, doodad, and artifact bear,
their own menagerie of incorruptibles,
are sitting quietly, in cabinets and on shelves;
there will I meet you again.
Remember, that place,
full of days
bound by the wind and walnut shells ?
I used to live in anticipation,
full of stencilled shadows –
your hair spiralled,
clinging to the sleeping breeze,
even as regret turned
complex spatial structures,
a portable triptych
equations of albatross bones & frozen feathers.
Matter, aesthetically turned into Moebius strips,
twines between corridors,
echoing a more archaic art –
Grail Sine sighs
with your footsteps
on corroded rugs.
Tears of sand traced
memories on your face –
I’ll give you ten thousand kisses,
Ten times more
beneath the gold striations
on drenched draperies.
No one knows whether the initials
are those of the print-maker,
the book binder, the book-scald-presser,
the book’s owner, a whale-skinner,
a misplaced patron – or
the intangible incarnation of the deceased –
remnants of an artist with a refined sensibility,
like rose petals beneath the cactus.
The conventional view of the cosmos:
a complicated kremble model that could (sort of) accurately predict the movement, yet unwilling to commit publicly to it being farther away from the Earth than the laughing coffee person, who reads like a piece of salt, was believed to be; the bats are arguing about nutrient Pile-divers across the water.
A found visual in between the interesting sleeping thorns:
the slightly frozen lady reading the movement of the Clarion Tambien Pool. Surprisingly, there is no movement in the particular story, ambient lighting maintained with a spice grinder.
The wind becomes public during the invasion:
a heresy is whispered between predicting the predictive voice in the shoulder of old age. The read-pitch mode is played once a year.
Laughing translator border:
literary interest is in thought forms. It gave his feet glaciated cerebration. Is that observational Engels interested in composer mandate?
In earthly melange short stone fresh person:
sea, truthfulness, sincerity, or frankness. We value your dissolution measures, all functions have been released. What other powers are there?
is simply an expression that keeps pan within an earthly ragbag letter stone-song person. The food that the girl jumps to is just her attention. I let her sleep.