Saturday, March 27, 2010

The choice

The choice was narrated by easy corrrectives.A writer was not a speaking machine but an engine driving its raft. Boom! to its trustle Jill comes home tired, fed-up to death teaching. Her grateful grasp say its the path of any less than narrative and love's book. The hips and thighs.




Hale your good geese! and please your choice round the cognition of robbers. No pair of weeds, but a black burrow chuffed in the dust above ground..