Sunday, May 09, 2010

For sooth

for sooth the delayer of operators. and round the edging thigh, and the churning flesh boxed in its kennel. rounds the wedge burying the 'deep' knife at Dieppe. and cluttering along as any mite of flea and felled brook. O running stream odd its torrent and the calm cold eddy fishing out its back pack.

and t he calm volute convey .. non, no the calm conveyers of tree. no, wanton, no walnut, re burial finding again the tribute made by formosa. Is that so Fanny dawn dusks its mateche. Ma techne! Iye! Oye! You greek!

back to your battering ships while we work this thing troo. O true of wood and pile of lance and t he king's knight shambling to the wretched camp... No, nah, yes, yay! she meant text message of something and

because I have been a fascist I cannot love. cannot love? What forlonesque fiddle faddle is thus? You pumpkin maker! rebuilt your shelves for the coughing man!
you bankbreaker!