Friday, March 05, 2010


Cut a caper darling . And so and :

This way the moon goes up. Mona goes down she's manic delire to her button _ single as the mild monkey troubling the water. Along the boulevard students bundled with books and essays fare and ramble their . This and that. No one hears Theravada. The moon gets huskier as do the finer half hour pauses. She holds her prescient narrative to its togetherness. You see it's like the sun's warped her vessel and crying for grace, she's come along the mountain abandoning effort effrontery and spy hovels .

Jill peers glass deepest into the fixed quarry there's coal down there, and over the cove she's backed off the endless infinite fright of beginning again and holding together her lapsus she's partitioned to boxed and beginning. No origins for her nor original sins to wake the walrus and wildebeest . Ragweed and frayed grass are foremost companions. On the boat no one knocks and everyone's quiet. As a mouse and more.