Saturday, March 20, 2010


Dingle go the sheaves in their starting naves. The gull spirits the hour. The thighs of the water part...

and you wrastle the hugger muggers and pated gulls. Spirit to the waxing nave.

When you ass smooth moves hurting the eye . Guessing the range of man's suffering. O mong among and the rug gulped down its rounding baggage. It's the slang hurts and the maudlin

Mona won't complete her thesis. hER THesis was eyeball to eyeball. what did you stare at me, and the other woman longing . and there was room enough in bed for the three of us. Mona chills her glass. Lemonade to the squeezer and the farm and her resting waist. O come lover this day is yours and ours.

She's heard the .
And ferried her
wondering at the possiblity of love's triple decker fuss!
O wavery!