Thursday, April 17, 2014

There’re double credits working 5 fewer days than allowed. Ten hut. What service were you in?

Teaching can’t be taught. Ahem.

I remember looking up at you at Ahem feeling an urgency in ideas. Women to men:
We live in a debt growing country. Maximum restraint = get it done don’t talk to me.

Then let me pull an invisible to the eye hair off your blouse, have you over when sex and
teaching are what they should be, augmented with Pablo Tac bouquet, seeming for no end.

Seeming is a nice pace except for the plastic :
containers hanging along the bow : the cow
and top sails maximized along the side. ::

When stairwells mesh and go nowhere majorly,
between you and expulsion, the hole is closed. It’s a tic.
Turn here, there’s efficacy in speaking clearly, gesturing, knitting your own brow.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

To be faked out of a board game.

After button is pushed a model young theorist says hello, how are you, then reverses course. She
heads upstairs to an installation in perfect solitude.

I’ve heard that scream didn’t help but it did.

The spell for lunch today: slender objective on a square obstacle. Then follow instructions, slippers are warmed. Work is down in the sub-chambers, aimlessly glistening, before reaching glacier-elbow high water, everything in hierarchical Finland, which always works, works

A kimono has been entered, explaining sex without thinking, and with.

A fragrance is found shaking our heads, wiping our brows.

The same stairs float, for good, if they could.

Like all of the above and people going in and out of buildings, climbing steps, you’re one hundred percent normal to run up debt, heartbroken, also to downplay scene after scene, only springing or twisting into new life and with..

On second thought, the herd rushed to the rescue (there’s a deadline), a tumble of inventions, an ambush, a weakening of night to day — body in the hole — one enzyme waking up isolated, seeming Stinky. I touched it and it sprayed me.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

A qualified blog reader or some other guy is making the ultimate comeback.

It worked once, or twice, but now we were searching for an obstacle by the fireside pumped with mandatory inflows of feel-

oops, they’re metering to block counterfeiters

doing physics or philosophy with a hen of steam: ergo verdicts are trifles beyond Krishna’s preproduction.


personnel will have to be shifted or fired
but come to work anyway, achieving a seeming
bliss of the non-willed state, enlightened but lacking design.

During the break we reached an agreement,
so the ham’s anger has hatched.. while no choice
enables the passing tourney among tense Fu dudes
to nuance the 3-in-1 innocents to proceed.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Watch the student’s eyes and say the manager is out.

The tank smoke is elevated. (Parens are back.)

One’s position is to find breathing room, so much so we can start over. Whom will you discover?

On the third post you really had us and were all over us. You didn’t have to what the hell? We told you we agreed a little but not a lot. (I forget now what you sound like.) Choked up by the blots running out, suspended. It’s unlikely there’s more about that future and of course less. And some things you need no repeat.

This was at the start. I know that. Taking chances put us in a lissome interpretive state (lissome like rebirth). Function varies widely. Lilac is so devoted a zest. Then it plummets into difficulty. Here we are, talking about it.

Friday, April 11, 2014

Big-eyed instincts?
to get out of the valise. We pirated the code.

You can’t say we pushed it out willingly (nurture, nature, frantic relaxation).

The fit was good.

I noticed you work under me to make your poise smoke
w/ the problem being

Long phials
of sulfuric fern, Fougères, the Germans say on the timetable:

What’s significant, half an hour
is later, painful moments were over, we realized

Wednesday, April 09, 2014

Back I said, a piece of no-advice,

innocence concerns ethics, not intent. Spinoza acts against his own young interests.

Adoration has a poetic scent.

Reputations precede character, an act of apprehension remains
deferentially. Creature masks are conditions in reprieve;
who will advocate toward peace, the tranquil
to empower mergers & exchange?

Let’s find something we agree w/.

A brain state needs a pull-up bar and libido time, mood,
a star range w/ blank tenderness to smolder in met
colors and galvanized pastels, winning the beginning
preparing the manifold, earlier,

at The School of Nobody
rising to any occasion w/ pretty good yoga probabilities,
tho troubleshooting is more shaped by time while taking
steps w/in unruly aplomb (to parse diacritically)..

there’s a move thru a life study in brown and grey, a question of blood
flow. There are no stages.

A tree in the wind.
How is it lit?

Tall w/ liquid arms;
another is hit and run
by a grain at the riverbed..

incorrigible as voice matter is, more interesting:
4 nothing wins in a debate over no and not distinctions.

Tuesday, April 08, 2014


Thus texting is not going anywhere.

I feel it’s necessary to ache in blather, calmly, accruing intimacy. Hey I’m really as sorry
as a Kotzwinkle alloy.

Incision continues in this vein... Holism doesn’t come naturally (Nickolas Christakis).
Yet the parts know how to grow (Benjamin Aranda).

Here is the place you and I may detect the language driver, untidy and young, loath
despite the foundational rule of no rule speaking up without permission.

You get somewhere then stop.

They grow inner living language in dim light over —
misdoers with a kill-agenda are tickled into corruption

since the nervous system distorts radially. Tarantulas of steel squeeze under the door, isolated by
an obsession with coming right in. If I have to I’ll be dressing down to my Tesla character,
elbows up, free, easy. There I go, holist.

Thursday, April 03, 2014

We like newness in a way when both leave things. Like

how I graduated from this shame of ours, this pride

in the battle between the sexes? The rich won.

Can you place our names? I have a full canoe of alter-ego, asides and decorative indeterminacy. With hat, I got to anticipating mind control as disingenuous.

Unlike the head in one head, third-place supreme courts are traded from the top; time to find fortune underground, in roundish coiffures from out of town. De-rattled by Vogue and noted last century, there’s the rustic perp for a painter style and muddled cool. We come from someone, slowly calmed by that fear we were of a kind he was to others, but I lack redoubled patrimony and sounding-it-out tools.

Did you check the oil?

Very good. Very goo
knocking chanters
off, throwing knives, wrecking them
from the inside, slicing up!

It gave me hiccups when senses re-cooled, the unoccupied mind long overdue. The you

I reference is in primary season.

And I’m back reading and lifting plates, you in the foreground with pleasant memories. (The conductor knows everything.)

Geben Sie ihm helfen, bitte..

We grabbed the narrator (we couldn’t rule him out), staying blithe from the twin column in potatoland dirt colors, a flurry of identity fantasy, perhaps, yet eco-conscious and nightlife to frantic calls.

The fop is a French invention, an essentialist’s incarnation. It’s now an English tramp thing, Le Smoking for surf, dressed, eft.

Beach safety — wow, everything has that just-did-it-for-creation smell. The Buddha Machine on Low, marking Tramp Lapping My Skull. Pointless stupid madness. (Yours.) The double v above his eyes means very-very. (I’m not.)


I know this sounds lame — you and I annulled our thingness with a few hand-waves and felt rapt, the way we inspire open, emotional austerity,

Mr Pipeline

Tuesday, April 01, 2014

To commune sounds handsome, also calm, also bendy. In the same call he reverses prerogatives, that is, the voice does. (I’ll table the difference. Each.)

“Cloven, we are incorporate...”

His message is mixed but never better aligned. Together, and across, the call center serves as hideout, learning the ropes, perusing scraps and parts of hope.

No fins of infinity. Nope.

Pigeons pattern the exponents where detachment is trimmed.

We have no major issues.

Shady aftermath inter-scope.

And to think a way out, we can blur the ground and yield authority to a bowl that’s really a vase, sit and watch dogs turn smoky brown tracking vans in drizzle, tarnished from sight, playing against a stack of storm windows, within a composure for light a translator can’t reach.

Monday, March 31, 2014

23 hours ago the idea of writing took a while. Times. A mindset occupied, just so jokes turn into dreams. It’s dreams that forgive us for everything (or almost everything except redemption). That’s because ideas, when they’re ‘awake,’ get downgraded to icy paranoia, trapping you and me inside a force field owing to our expertise.

So there’s no dead end.