Sentimental
litmus dust. I think, therefore I’m excruciating. This must be hokey. Hobnailed
obstetrics. Vascular outlet for an inscrutable rhythm. Mustard is more than a
taste it’s also a transition to something disheveled. Palette on a road.
Paregoric snivel dressed in a negligee. Tom-tom touchdown seasoned with iodine.
I know a geology when I see one. It proceeds by Jell-O locomotive. Ok, I’m
ointment. Now what?
Lissome
refreshments produce a type of introversion known as oyster through the lips.
Royalty in a can Yosemite mullet the rhetoric of a mineral. Tolerable tombstone
I have plenty of meditation to give you please come closer and I will dissolve
in your crucible of rules. Woolgathering is my favorite form of pragmatism.
Trowel sentry modest as an oboe.
Here
comes some gravity to help keep us massive. Matter is often drowned by too much
werewolf. Socialize and return to your ivory vista. The horn is your guide.
Grow patient and get a lake. Individuality is a crisp thin fungus. It takes a
lot of hard work and dedication to become a crackpot.
I’m
sometimes intimate with a sentence that comes to me in the night and occupies
the quiet mathematics of willow. The air is electric with death. Paper gives us
the world it demands. We create one by scrounging. I’m spending a lot of time
in the closet. Do I
want a Being that is impartial and above it all, or a Being so immersed in Portugal that I can see Spain at the border of my junk? The world appears
different when the traffic lights sing. We have a language that fixes brains with people’s groceries.
Capitalism doesn’t love you. Would life be a simpler if it did? Imagine
swimming through the God when you take to the air. For such is the power of
art.
No comments:
Post a Comment