To be disciplined on our new motion furniture requires drill, “...comfort is a habit of empire.”
Start over. Abruptly
per Chronicles of Goo,
I’m knocking nonprofessionals
off, throwing knives, wrecking them
from the inside, slicing up!
A he-mind’s pill for breathing is long overdue.
And we’re back on one conjoined vertigo seat, now
reading and writing without an attorney.
“That’s how the paint sails” within taxonomies, overheated,
a mind occupied, just so, musks in the field and so forth.
You’re friend is coming. You mean the theme costumes?
Wearing a wigless wig is my method and model.
When I hear topical shifts forward hidden risks it’s iterative, baroque: As if after her death Couperin sprawled with the naked around Antoinette.
Let’s find one thing to agree on.
I usually snooze after a bonfire of love, & like Coup, not one note of cynicism vis à vis whom I adopt.
It’s better after I begin to wake I’ve landed. A roundhouse in the sun is great. I merge at the top, asleep..
Moreover, I landed. A roundhouse in the sun.. the left knee was just there when it was there, then took a variant position in summary terms of a sequence with only a few I could see up thru to the pleasantest valley. Police went wild one lane over, so I was arrested while asking myself, do
I understand profuse clouds are disassociated?
How is a partner shiny but then fallen with grey streaks?
Huh? Is it the fire? Up in smoke, flames sparks glow,
the red moon indispensable for smearing made light
There’s an echo upstairs.
That guy was the 1st to get a grip and hold on. He was witless after a while, undead.
You disappear, and you have children and they disappear.
He was Vietnamese. Works for the post office.
Inner wresting? That word again.
It’s kind of an unbuttoned, squeegeed pain to wrest
a dishonest hermaphroditic itch gerrymandered in ambiguity, where
it goes away, released at last into newly impartial states;
the tide appears to notarize something.
We came here to our senses to put up a hoax mailing.
Apologies to my mate.
So what if we both went thru the door leading to the rescue
of childhood? and all it contains,
all I could have told you?
There’s no way to degrade-ultimately-destroy capital.
After millennials there’s homesickness, new inebriation, a little suffering a little moving in with my
parents because they like me... I just don’t worry: It’s my best opus, a tight 100 hours of urban-U,
Godzillian scale narrative casually hiding in self help boilerplate..
I’m feeling polyphonic with an uncapped fortune, reflecting what I did when my adolescent
backbone iced up, raising all boats, all social levels. My greatest fear is going deeper into Dr Jeckel —
I’d be dragging a palm frond around 4 a.m. That would kill my parents.
They’re dead already.
If you’re anamorphic, government 2 often comes out with all-of them, highlights. Or low-2-high if you like
sex, be sure 2 wake me up. Pick a spot and be seen as well as seem breathing, o Swami —
Our guardians are tired of interruptions and self reflective outreach; hence the corporation is late
and lonely as an interdiscipline that threatens. Solitude, confidences, you’ll earn times in the day,
the plays and jungle, many in a series — during your mother’s labor you chose your parents,
keeping their lives 2 lose you.
In the Kingdom of Ice by Hampton Sides
I finished this book last week, a thriller for armchair adventurers. I guess I can claim that soubriquet, but I read such like for more than the sensation of...