Hyperbolic Duodenum Squash

My hat is asymmetrical. This is to be expected. It generally happens between chiaroscuro and a blast of water. Dramatically silhouetting a broker’s yacht, a promise puts coral in the skin of the world. Pulsations do ripples about water lilies. This is the reality of life in Savannah, its proposals of the day. One of which is to visit the library in Thunderbolt. You probably wouldn’t want to dive into me. I would recommend wading. Irritations cause strong winds, heavy precipitation, thunder and lightning. If I wave a staff over the waves everything is what we are. Though I do enjoy my blood. Because that’s what blood does: it penetrates your pain and we feel the pleasure of Crete, the columns of Greece. The rhythms of Bo Diddley, the lyrics of Chuck Berry. I believe that when we stand before art there is a metaphysical attitude. Experiences locked in marble come out and talk to us. These marble men and women tease us out of ourselves and into the sentence to do something we both enjoy. This is when reading just wants to keep going. Where is the end of this sentence? It flips and spits out a gymnasium. I find the sags of old age and turn it into Popeye’s forearms. The mind blossoms among its nerves and jumps into the juice of blue jewelry at rock concerts. There are few artistic directions in life as compelling as Robert Johnson. Concision isn’t all that convincing. We live in the extreme hope of hoping for a hope to complete the purity of an unhurried dream. Let’s talk about pain. Pain is the exquisite sting of a needle. Pain is the sparkle of a rusted blade. Whatever your philosophy of pain happens to be, adaptive hormones are necessary for the growth of hyperbolic duodenum squash. Leave your helmet on. What hurts the most is the very idea of form fulminating in a corner of the mouth. It needs to be rooting in the chest with the drugstore awning. There is a nobleness in living openly with oneself, especially when waiting for a prescription. So do what I do: write all the inflammations you can think of that create the stars in a South Sea of understanding, and then rush the moment until it comes out like a voice prolonged in a sentence headed straight for Aldebaran.