subjet d'art Mona's royal buttocks of beauty _ they speak to me _ saying to me in a rushed aside
what pleasant hill is that green Jerusalem? Mona function'd fictional_ the
queen's (queen? queen high heeled in the boisdeboulogne) (queen toreface ripped off god save the queensheaint
ahuman being) (queen: queen bee) (queen: her majesty) (queen: someone that oprime les autres) message "of peace"
to the world stage of world news were always her best play __ winter sans snow was not a place to campaign_. She has goosed the natal morninn g of her fat word her plight's stick yer butt sans frais down wheels and puns. Busted by statue and gape, she's creme de menthe on the refeted phrase. St. Fatality has accidents in her pant(ies) knows her cock wont be worn backward. A secret gizmo to her job won't let her play foxes and bears. A fox was sniffing around the fields between two underpasses as they drove the night heading into the finite mix mastering of city. NO heading into the infinite jangle . No, infinite wrangle. No, screw this! She whirls her skates abound, skateboard skirted she assfitted to the sun, her boy's best butt judged on, she's hearing praise and hoorays hoorays. Is it a man appearing at her door, as she spun the doxy wheels her funning way, funnies on the kitchen table where the murderer sat, she's georgics to her baffled fey not worked over by wrought fingering exercised by haunted gable and trouble eave hearing everywhich way kind of rent. Off to her rented sphix she goes hidden in a buttoks secret to the good god universe.
A voice bellowed out of the belly One can only hope the universe'll blow up sooner than later. An apocalyptic thought twisted by vased flower bedding and not rivered thighs. Hmmm do you think writing in the first person is a waste of time? Yes, it is because cause cause first person is fiction and only appears otherwise. Fiction of first self is most self as I who says I is dead and yet who take its serious is deader than dead dead dead . Dear dead I dont write back yer dumbarse plays on empyrean emotion fixture who am i shite. what is that shit. Shit to I. Shit to the I.
Dont bellow yer voice inmy eye, she wisp of fair . On her arm rested . Reposed her winking heart to his. Oh sweet!
Legend has it she had many covering to her plateau of bodying regression to her rescinded
feel.if not was there another spot for her to go bog? of this typewriter she's heard of
clinic and critical but her amaze was a gift of not paying attention the
Mona skits oranges twisting lathes her boom-glow row. Or other feathering wilted socks across caverns of deputed denims, socks for her feet, a derby for her brain head.
Fanny, don't bum my tits, you braggart! Infantile trains and derricks to ramshackle yer hoists, infernal conates sisphyean swish anatomical rapscallions. English is her e_name and love's biting ass her tame ruby-shipping rump. Hunkers to slaver over were the boys pantalons. Not mister nymph and her eleven by forted hexameters.
Puf and cuff the pill do they doat, hillyboat to her skivvies. Around this hall the forty elders of sciene and privy sat. Thought smacked their head, as any dagwood rainbow might if she were the thought that buried the tomb. Amn't we goin to the wood, habit queried. Perish me timbers, by the Lord Christ we'll have the living of you yet, you tart of the fartbenders and rule crackers. Come ye faithful dossies yer ragwood slacking clowning days , a bosom for any failing nail, you'll have. Flaunt yourself before me, will you? Crab-wise my little nutrient buckle.
Impetto Impetto private caretaker's tiniest thingamajig. C_ this tongue's inscribed on your ass. Jill hushy to her hussy willingness! shush yer scandalous mouth of diamonds . A jocund tart was better than none. A sandalous lesbic speech armed with plates, cups, upward standing houris. Low buttocked high buttocked sheer weighted the swayed hipping of her enjoinment. Restart camp once more, myrtles and Agamenonon. Nononon. Yes yes yes Come all me triolets, triplets to your wrong
treble clef to this fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari
or say the appparence of sun worship shipping fate over the prarie category and city wonder half the word hung on its lip imagined projected voice_ a wee trick and trade to steel lady _ traitor not trucker. Or curling bowling,mountain range of Canadian immanence, Alps bearing up under the glance of its seethe. Once popular for changing clothese not a naked academy for clackers or assylum pretend.
Jill your sentence is wealth of sides. Copper where danced the cool drinking fountain oblong hotelling motoring past peaks, vacatioing aside the epic simile narrative to a dead heat never cocking your head hold back its various place not drunken ghoulish the smart ass the clear taste of the void
An accordian for your player. This then. Twirl around the plateau. Chop forth. Choppy.
tinkering guitar strings reaching her toe and tail strummin her
full body of the earth
roar flow and fill its juvenescence hurrying wing of trimmed forest feel
Stochastic chasten'd Jill worke'd her Spinoza scholia, her narrowed forehead booked in the dark as any nervous cape brain drilled in out as her pumping oil
JiLl becomed embryonic point zygote blastula embryonic astronautical her carrying navel cord leashed in long yards. Back to her eden. Edometrium this room's her place its comfort her birth as this regular beat 's beating beatiing's her heart_ her hands paw shrunk to her republican plontinus her spectral wheat a breathing vein a piper to the height reality
Draughted air was her daughter/martyr
works wrought feathers
its between teeth
their bare legs
over the sty
the wolf fold
its a deer hunt
mackeral to mace
becomes a tincture pad
eyes goin' dark her angel
fall fairin' field its a peasant's
hand grace the tearing of
buildings down wont
stop credit playing out
its heartless justice
jukebox to city
voile, sideways like her hips ass wave to her high grade
aluminum wage of thin cress leaved to her gold nape
its Jill`s mander her bottle-neck
escape scuttle out to her dawn navy
Over ship and whalebone_d her billowy feather
not captured by orchid or bee, her giddyup and go
steals from her lover his best ones, her youth cruel as any stupid empire builder a whoreblanket american style
shes shipping shit and goo down her barrels,
knowing wheat from chaff like shit from shape,
its her american way
her american need to conquer and destroy plunder
the better of her weak .
Jill was on a trasnsport _ valiantly cavalierly. Seditious brat of mouths. Back pedalling her harbinger. She became ASTONISH allegoric form of merry tree death of form endblissbecome of platonic form. Abhorrence was her vocal revolt. Mona was a soliciter. She studied law of formless hoveruin her politic absence.
Jill where did it enter Over maximum replies pushed its agreement for sentencing. This is your first shore. Not the best enter to a palace of fireworks. Or emblazoned harpies.
She remember a step up the plate over the brothel tower Paris, swinging
stepping its town hall gathering glance. No, not again p. Lease. Justified fair ground. Midway between heap and cup. this tired woe's no end. insite and outta site
Arrive Place Vendome knowing language's caved off. Accents heard to run her off metro train . One to the other. It mixes and moment.
body of her borne. Within and out the door of what is and what if she sallied.
Like any caretaker mother. Her nervous lip-nibble gave her away. What sort of espionage cinq-a-sept is she? ANyhow? is this the irish telling on the wake her dearing down to felt pen tipping? or is it generosity to a fault? So it whoas, so it go.
Orpheus came home his sleep-room double-backed with his twosome. leg arm
twined and twinned. she was preferred with a thought.
the first time was
talkin' to his inner tackle _ a valiant stir waxed
Jill creepe'd over stage reading leftward her logics of body
away her twisted caliper a squirrel face not trunked
headed hopped its checker move
inside her rifted
Jill knew everything like that.
A knife of courtesy to her sharin g debut
my darling dare who winked
of its wordsmith proud.
As she hipping on the stand.
something sail past her cunt. her ass of sail
whipping boy to her current.
the ThReE of them in Bed.
was bedded by delight its hearkened
garden a bever of lifted ear
a blissbowed kiss
bowered apple kiss
Shhh quoth Fanny we can camber here aftering
afostered hour return the play of sacking sent.
Head out now lovelies. Fiction to forward. Leave personned 'a'hind not narrowed by the . It shine better my Mona. Or yer Mona now? Come off the wagon. its speciality is episteme bang bang. Sterling Pound 1934. Mandate_ d. there where the goliaths adore. plates of other repeating and say its columbus walks the Ohio. Say its the narrow liver. Or the molecule gone.f rom the cabby. Or dear. Ones.
each to a fellow.
O Come bet this Mona chill to her vaccumed bait. its sidereal fair time to her buddingespecialy finer limit. as thighs of mouth to mouth count.
dry its harping dread.
Jll`s doubled her back to see. HisHim is her Fanny to her doublebreasted cloak
coat of her tit lover to his mouth. Meow to his sending a pain of aching down
across her skimped stomacher. her hefted feet. around her neck. mouth to her
mouth sex his doublemouthed mother cry cry Oedipii Oedipii! there is no
mouth after every meal
hovered by tune and parry its prey a sentence to . this snort. of air.
where demonsters and monstering water crawl. Its hoary gift chugged
to fair land ground hugged its mother pearl lust golden garden pent out by
lamprey and other short shrifted ghost.
Come to the bank of the Garonne for her lover.
She is Jill Fanny Fanny Jill Mary Martha
Orpheusjesus has hugged them bed.
sinke.d.its series. lent. pure. anchor its dessert. in the .
Missippossaloosa basin.its riptide.
Now loook loop one you have it . wrong. the looping lasso. raid.
cowboy. its senting its first . word. not secondary pate. I have blessed
your horse! Hey dey and dingle the merry book. Yer skin`s an eye sees me.
Cheers. Love. Epistolary boom! boom! remember me not! over marry hill.
cart. spin the weevil of the wheel in the letter. By Jingo! _____Whoosh! it go!
and hoop-a-la! to breed the terrene time of merry mustering fallow.
not seared by lent otherwise her cracking goose
was black skin carried we the carraige to France
our hearty heads high, lover my double exed twin one
Mona`s festoon of fustian slipping gravity
day and night
undefined undefined undefined undefined Incomplete page. fragment on a taggle. no time. meet to bust. some maches work some tipple topple and bust. what? youI thought desiring-machines only work when they break down? well __ It did! I love you So relax. Author's machine comments . I let th rest go. Incomplete page. fragment on a taggle. no time. meet to bust. some machines worke tipple topple and bust. what? I thought desiring-machines Author's machine comments . I lith rest go. In__complete page. fragment on a taggle. no time. meet to bust. some machines work some
reall? yes really? over fakered dummy. Ventriloquist pause. As when Rause saw his part knock knock knock you kook
'worried' about plain and Come Mona sigh her bone trill
as when a
as becomes a
as when a become as a
as when a charted c at whiskers every hair her sexual fantasy picking cherry
and the slide of kidhood has seen its better day or this woman's head
frosted in his window crying out loud Nommy! Nommy! Nommy
she has gone with another the wave cry come
her hair's gotta be washed after she comes
is what her girlfriend hear. Hear the symbol of two hands cluttered one plain palm
hemstich to this barrier switched by the car
Curled ear of the wheelright the curve of the wainscotted room
cantilever'd exterior eve drop witch cap vaulting roof coffered belly ceiling drooping over head
overheard room before this that tarries the voice her self knee working den
pleasure's last post robbed of air the lay round me sleep
the red ship a boon to lightening sailors
echeloned cumulus piled overhead their bustling ladder
cleft chimney heaven's light
this & other place Mona's hobo home away
She's sought the 'original' kraft dinner
lyric bustle her dress orphan carnation to its cut frottage
Mouth minked the escapadoed verb
seminarie --in the theologie and who are not unaware felix guattari and
gilles deleuze who have some written about theologie and of christ. why does
the mockery of theology apprehend your ideas. So not all are conforming to
the lawes of the magisterium, and many, like Hans Kung are wavering and
silence against their volitions. Aas I and others also are . Grace to all in
the list, and we are some sisters who are reading these radical
philosophes!so do not be too despair,but have your faith.
-To continue: for all of you who come to my gnostic
breast for nourishement from the double-sided sex.
: The three errors concerning desire are called lack,
law, and signifier. It is one and the same error, an
idealism that forms a pious conception of the
unconscious." This is for the dear "n'uns" of the
list. These sisters sound like they need a good old
fashioned catholic chastisment of the flesh. That
might clear their heads of this drivel. I continue to
cite: It is futile to intepret this notions in terms
of a combinative apparatus that makes of lack an empty
position and no longer a deprivation, that turns the
law into a rule of the game and no longer a
commandment -- Do you hear this Dear Buttocks Maria
and Sister Prudence?? --, and the signifer into a
distributor and no longer a meaning, for these notions
cannot be prevented from dragging their theological
cortege behind--insuffiency of being, guilt,
signification.:" A/O. p 111/ By the way we continued
this theme of the priest and the madness of lack in
M/P.. So dear ones, find a priest to fuck from behind
and then you go to the clinique for help. Or leave the
monatery and go read DeSade. Or marry some thing. Or
see the movie by Hal Hartley called Najda. Or the
other one with the nun who writes pornography for a
living and witnesses a murder. She still believes in
god of course, because that is not the issue Prudene
and you can tell that to all of Bernard Lonergan's
jesuit flunkeys. We know very well who he is, and who
DeChardin was. Do you think we would be so ill-read as
not to know? Come kiss the lips of Jesus, one two
three four fuck Jesus up the bum. Deleuze will give
your immaculate sodomtic baby.
With your great affection an
This love of hers was true. As a candered knight. Hill tent to her top.
When the knight 'got' silly like your shoulders, you wondered what the hyper commentary was about listening to them speak she saw her place in them taking. Her 'bio-graphem-e-y' stated this: ....Has been a performer, son daughter of Jean Genet, a confusing bio- graphy , . I can't remember what else I meant to say : this, Mona knew she was the person others took her not to be, she was in and out before they knew a word, before you could say twenty-two. That didn't cut mustard with Franny, or Jill, at least, not always, but Mona didn't live for other people in the end. The sheer stupidity it required, it asked was beyond was too much, those who couldn't keep appointments, broke and breaking them keeping a man girl waitin' for no reason at all were just not worth it. She laughed her Russian kerchiefed head off, her turbaned head. Off. It went. As when a diamond preposition has turned against the sky and there is perspective which will be gained by the gazer and her gaze....
When Jill saw she was one, she saw two and the many others that made her one in one two two one two times two. She Mona in the playing field, and the Mona Lisa was her too, I mean as well, in addition, but thither and hither she sent her sound, signifying down the barriers of life and death, and she knew she was she-ed pas t the edification of Franny mothers. Not liked the othered ones, she had past her two and went her one. And like the One she was two, always adding an abstract one, and then a hyper-two for good measure.
"I don't even want to know there were men before me" she echoed and "I don't even want to know " "I don't even want [nor wane as well] there were women before me" That was not so sure, not-so-sure in her cupable way. Of lids and mouths. Too cheap to call that is not true. So Franny, I mean Mona, she said to her niveaued plastered self, her plastered columned shelf. Something like that, and not like that. Other thing.
Cupable inquires Mona it's the self winding project of the doomed disaster dons.
Simple as air inquires the roof. Of its shelving and dusk. Our name becomed behooved its one.
After backing to back she's cushioned the thought gasping her leg. Tune to her
grasp she's grape lent to fait accompli . Laced by inventing a virtue of nec-
essity her paragraph's perfect pallor wondered her sentiment. Not a checkered
word to her eaved head . Piled up the clatter of her verbal festoon.
Pontoon to her sluggish river. Not a end in the manner it tosses,
but grave to its running hiatus, her hair is a blue sun .
Or dear the blue sun's yer hair. come over to the hamam
is that it? whisper arabesque to her coil.
Will Jill and her stochastic Spinoza have approved and Franny and her entelechies have danced the ineluctable modalities of boats and seas with the yes of mermaid and murmurs of mothers in the roll me round the earth belly dada come rum-rum made me home Would anything had been so kind in the D of Libido and rodeo Rodeo not video around the sarcastic liver of grooved moved and tubed coasting under the side of the feminine rhyme and rhymster hipped by morpheme and deranged comfort O my feet my feet my feet! inside my blood and needles and pins is not the thing its wherewithal of zero and zany . O zero and Zerro! of chevaliered childerhoods. I have reported thee to the sun things like those must be heard to be relieved, and I am soft rift of cannibal waits. I am the heard one which peeled and peeped back his face, and she is the learned by the abyssm mysterium tremendum tremendyumdyum! Reeled by rivers and water wagons Not the summer long when Satan -- poor soul sod! -- deterritorialized the free moving energy of capitialism to make space for his evil soul -- porting his sad Protestant hat against the Catholic god of monotheism a disease like Mono Mono and Mono is high fideity you could say against sisters and mothers. O Ulysses be my shadow in this fallow rounding land of huggers and muggers!
Heft the back time, of her hips. And glued and other part. OR whole hankered by year.
Its slung back hip of her hauling you. She has yielded a catatonic knight.
Borne by wave and god
of pupa ford.Combine the ray along. Come then. Over there. Not soft
given but hard channeled as tragic fare tosses her nape out.
she's Jill to her donna Madonna fate to her spring funnel.
Passing along a handful of hollows worked from c_
Say more anon
bank as they bend into the sun, the trees. A navel of calling back to the garden river, say a feather drifted down stream bed when five pearls 're dangling in their face.
the wheel of thought after thought Fanny's got control of the state. Not earthquake but other
howevers where bearing bill she's a city lady with pontoons galore. Her rattled hair, as any
hair dryer knows wont sit in place be still wear its performance off sheen the darksome
brutal of river. And races borne by calumny won't cracker her forest egregious crowd.
knowing when is the key.
boat wile. Over the odysseusus. She frontispiece to her covert mantle. She serenade investigative processual tic of her trade. Gazebo and porous hinky-dinky she's walking the branch of wet water. Sauntering the elm oak, knackering off the tine . She's middling the grass as toting the wear. Its not mineral or fakery . Its she there. As the stare won sea.
Mona gotta halter top a bikini bathing cap shes wearing Picasso socks and maiden trainer shoes. Is that so? yep, you got it bothering the raided pink of diamond soled feet.
She say Like that it moves, waits, halts mute then, muttering the cryin'
a little song when the sailor noses out the stalking
of the face's stem its flower and lariat true lovers sneak across the street, past
a dump over a hill a finer eclipse than your last near patrol of calm lent and its five thousand soldiers freaking down the gear of war __ in the war they work at pat at games and death
near its dearest opinion of desire flow backup over the recording surface
cares a face carefree in the cafe, she hold banter not further
from where Prof. Jill hold forth. She hold forth her heeled skit
to his heading away flight. come on! she wants to give him
logic of lovers for xmas morning with rimbaud gathering his bodies a thousand sexing hour to his love lung wheeze hoah wheeze hoah wheeze hoah _ or a blood vein cutting the simple fare of its weight, not boldened by creek like wavering or borrowed blinks of thought. she pares a knife
to his shaping franny want to fuck him badly as handing a mille plateaux to his flour bed,
alone solitudes. mother to his mere mountain caboose to his tom thumb tilting his updside
over going of nave she saw his heel. like any clean simile he ferries the cute flame of its poor
body to his only only only malarkey.
she has found the welfare goddess in his eyes.
over the hanky panky Anterior to your gone. She mustshe must open the kit stemmed by cell over lean to parody. Real repatriation of this self of yours was chink and chunk . Something your hand knew, around his, or the halo tongue of wheat. Speak like Puritans not putains, something as dear as necrology and the hankering after astronomy not aboulie of these staves. Each rudiment of the flower stood by itself at the conference.
Jill has many merry friends She will never go to Afghanistan neither as entertainer or king picker. In her study with Fanny near close to a globe her buttocks dry as any carpet it glows the air besideher alcoved maid. Not hither and gone but thither and unafraid . To live.
Jill foregone . Investments pulled. Harumskarum won't hold for this differAnce of her relayed gratifiers or her murmured meres. Ceremonial
ticket taker. Shun the single argument. Is this a microphone for god sake? Landsake! woman where is your repetition? she hankies question.
Swivel mate call thy name. Farewell ducky your plane is gone, the ether. Has worn its payday.
She minds reminds fate number from another life time
love flowed like the numbers of the day and
you were there -- but through this scrappy life of mine
nothing's been clear
Some wig shouting:
"this isn't much of a poem is it , with weak hands
weak feet weak knees not knowing what to do next
not knowing which way to go
hearing the great roar in their graves
hauled him up in a basket to her love
that was love like in the old days
goes on now and heard the trumpets
Flourish which calls its name
Jill heard about the great coupled called History and began to love her name and named her love and when A and C were seen to her she saw it was their fortune to love faithing believing everything was a rivered possible laved with the intent of their force sex and .. So it was and she was and saw; and One piece it was of a garment ripped cutting her face and breast for love of him and his loves. O Jill O Mona who loves history in her hindmost parts. What a racket and racketting it was to Love with a capital or not a knot to twist and turn sinew your pages of stealth and health. Not like this thing the lunatic lover and poet shamble and shanked by full moon and hangover vows from the monasteries. After the primal dance the monkey the ape of love ape me. My One THousand Plateaus.
Or something like that. You see honeylovers, the bellloud trade.
palm upward to his heads down eye up cut angle of profile
not s immering to his sister cousin he looped a bridge to her
one two buckle its pediment
is this fate her face borned down wind leeward to his case
she fated the night of old silver patterning her song around his waist.
come up close to the bloc the becomings of his tented fine
Franny feathered the willow .
elm was not a seat to push button.
camber to her juice the flute of becoming.
you know a victory short, the devils, win , where got its foot in the face, threats by bad guy always against good guy create |
numbness in the face, bomb whistle overhead, missle crash blam, tank rumble smash
smash rumble smash rumble rumble smash this house this house this house this ceiling will crash 'll crash 'll crash the kid inside the women the 8 kids the the 7 women the female speaker of the house of the death of baby but democracy will tout its honest ethical trsyt of bodice the direction of Commune the direct of the characters scrawled headlong over page, listening to the bodies and inthe Strip brushed by death by death by death brushed by death by brushed heading down death its the time to end its seizure of lie and lie of baby crying in the head, one can, of Senate and heart, the House of Commons and the bay, over there the ship bounding the death walk, the bombs walking along the shore, where is the
people that walked the lake of Love and protest?
is she incumbent to love_ all colour all creed all walk
_ Now get out of there by midnight tonight _ curving Moon of Love
_ Curved Moon of Love
Sweet one of thy
She won howeve, we gathered the grape of ornate , to hurry the air winning against the big money gangsters. But war wont work our tepid make up to death....
our troupes turn a face of war to the profiteering of disaster. You have found rented children on the street.
this are the disaster of war
not the plenary session
of your indulgence
Jill's tail of a comet! imagine this auditorium where gawking up into star light affairs of heaven's weird firmanent hearing laughter language bending into the word guessed her elbows, and gleamed bronze hair. Is that possible? not only possible she baby, but likely.
shes worned the honour wondered the worn of honed honours bearing on the fort the fortissimo of going and treasuring . what spunk's shadow forges her baying cant field the honour of her second. Seconded by river and beds or war's double-player she phone speak from her head had, its orient fuzz not a peeler of cabinet, but lent and its ever-steady truth. Call of the perfect pluperfect, laced as glooms and eighteeth century castles. Something about not using place, as Gothic cathedrals sense, or saunters a catheter body damped out on clothes-lines hung drapery eternity's cutting matrix. Orpheus hold the whale Orpheus can't back a sheet of paper in her eyes, her sexing not a bite, but a becoming of respects, molecule to her trove. This'll be sick but love's boom biting grooves in her harem. O shitty bordello of crappy meals and lunch time with a cigarette, big buttocks, buttery buttocks chunked out by cave like lichen and rearward pants to tally the overture of rain. Excuse this essex of incensing lathering the torture of seated pants and other pillows to frighten your face, by a kingsize sister.
Love's stretching sister's done the dunes, heralded the deed, seized the land.
Franny has Jill Mona has no one you 've made yer bidet clean it , foursome. Love.
No more was her said Head to her graceous endometrium. Plunder of the only moment she afforded got purchase around her round not a true narrative barreled its plate strange coach to her love bite hr button down up shoes white as any spin came clomping to her shoes lush as ducky swan feather gaits.. Silly this is when luscious plates of green pea soup bear their ice when the paw the lover felt whack her ass shirks the endless retreat and she beckons her broad's back bare
See Jill See Jill state See Jill state easier as pumpkins pie.
we will come back back to here as wind to sail curve to canoe and svelte nymph of the high
astounding thing. when Jill Heard Mona, that was the key|
a key part one of erring cal_ hmm something there, leaned
in the breath tobaccoed . Hmm 18th century ruffed
collar heroine of the sword keeping vain.
Mona' s boyfriend's come home.
calypso of sound thrust
parting the relent wave not so saying its heart is navingated rum
Subdued as rock. Leather heart to whinge as its played over. The phone of your voicing
its leather word. Cool and cocooned, its slip place laid . Into the condominium they roved.
Dialogue of lover in pants and jeans their whole house caught up. Its where they spoon their supper and earn their bread!
say head over heel varnish of lyric heels palm-mate palmetto or something like Callas to spring-hands sportive as sprocket to kind lockets.
Mona is pregnant.
a moor over the head. ferryin it past methuselah and he is wondering what happen'd to her head, when the sex got good. Mona does not speak Latin,and English it's not her favourite tongue
and were lovers be _comings the cut lace over her hand. She wait the day for the strata to heave
open where her radiators can get in and workingthe moment seize her 'carpe deum?" As a host you understand this perfectly well ushered by the pane of the gothic forest. not teared by its need, but silhoutted by its badinage. Not bandage! skimpy wear the two of them to bed.
they were lover be. come over the Notre-Dame cathedral and a rainbow's innocent queen has had her day, to say not a noun of her day. She had music in her bone. Painting was her blind man's mask, not a starry year or thread to mark her wasting page.
Mona rings. Give me a bell, a bell. Give me a bill, billeted and seconded by marshall wide clip the church of her eyes, the nave of her sex. Jill reminds her: I've always, my darling, been your fir-woods, clapboard to any weather, and apartments without fridge and stove.
So over the plateau they tarried, monk and praise, from every particular parry.
Franny foreward note to death heap of brown sack on bus, other ass walking and stay. over to her hairdresser, she spell doom for the orthographer of it, Madame Aristote. Clefting key, her wake ,
close to Daddyio Deleuze's demise, Franny's rise. a switch a roo if ever you've heard of one. I dont read snake and batter. I am jewel thief to you yoeman of the tongue tied way. Waybill heard me no end to its heart, its shelter its bee beyond paradise and sHe. Moulded for the fact , of its evanescent.
Now take that in yer leg of papa deleuze to her talking billyboots, a kiss to framed the postcard never sent, Oh yes, no receiver sender back to playbill.
Mona on stage. World stage no less. Her perfect frotting and heeling.
So then, Miss Knight see that. And pent yer selves up. Low and down right mean hearted. But not always, not, always.
Dogs can bit lambs crawl at their feet like stolen yappers, muzzled by tom-toms and cheap brazen hostels. Not that that worked, O Jill of the seven pens . And more Or more, lover more
Dogs might be mizzled muzzled and moderated, but not love, not love not lust.
Some cliche spent its nickname on this choice.
wd. con.letter o'er outh. it keepe. s'ake.
ov. Jill & her glided coat of pignifer. shall
it pickle wheat? to father the sow?
makes lovE to maryMother ASsumpt'd to
couch lass. sackerdanvenzetti.
like any other shoulder
a tear to lean
her field of gold was ploughed as stir.
Love at first bite.
Ive clipped the heels from your drapes. Or drapery or say wishing bone on spelling bee _ or my wheels lit the fire in your hen_ or pen_ as in
repenetentiary _ no, not that. other weirdo onthe dock, resolving the problem of S. not as Tristan in the sell down approximate appointments of his
becoming is not imitating~~~~~~~
this ensign was over at Vico's mirage. caltrops shivered the feet _ or crumbled elephant rampage and walking against state police anarchists _ conceivable bodies bituminous water
no so so but So! sew .
flung on the road in front of cops! shank! hurt! come to be my baby in olden time was hearing distance aid oH lover.
come this thief _a nanny goat's beard, or some mountain walker and next a camera yield, not the 'flow' lay or crowed black bird s in the heaven.
sent west. Westward wattle gaze and over her his shade watching . holding on holding. Holding ? she come to throttle its page.
Mona has dare seen it s heart. Incomplete tea.
purgatoried to Lent. Shall will its shall be's for compte exterior. Not the swallow and its Asiatic moorings. Camped by the caliber of choose. This was it thing to devil the uselful cage.
Despotic as it was in the seconding epic simile of contre-page and its the usefulness of things
which count. Avoice bellow. Not sofa inside curlicue of effort. Each for self! not so the hurray!
End these private reterritorializations. Crystal of cement. It's a polyvocal hangout for your bird, yer boite de cinq heures. Jump! Spin! A hole inthe moon'd never become missed by its predicate to your form dear. Machines to your doctor. Dumb hand of the folk spirit of rain and peasantry. Shame shame shame. Its myriad mystical form. Opal valleys and cement. Cheers to clear. Its clinging your shame your knees. A daffodil would know better how to peer covering asses thighs, say juice your forearm . And your face this face of suzerainty.
Fanny cover the trellis . Fanny rule the alcove pantomime . Jill her lover, and he, the one , her both her his their his, their own He, Him. Sweet double one owled geranium.
An exercise in flutes or cambrioles, petalled by the hour, its flurorescent wedding carved by the pulse of her hearing.
Mona, knows Oona would say rocking word
over immanence of praise and praise of innocence, she walks ants. fated by hungry bears in Europe's last slack. tea spoons coffee cup, flask in her hip joint she balance cup cusp to her spring to come her lover. Spring coming. O is that so it sorrow to her mocking bird, wraps the gap up in her hand.
overthe care, catering to
stick stock forges
come on shimba sickle yerfork
its young dumb gets yer goat
nanny an' awl
like the heel of a thumb
subway coming n all
stuffed riggin in the two patch tone
Mona clocks a navy boat
round fennel to heart skip
herald the catatonic pieced
penned off the wall
not getting the machinery of love's take
its giddy-up gue she kick ice flummery & acidnine pens
cambers a shirt decks a cloth
entering the fiction what Eye bend
ing a personae eye-glid
No one's neurotic'd her tig befores
she wont stammer her fat pate for
come taker to her dig
if'd inside the flictionher affliction
affects deadening-eyelid the maelid
over the subway under the subway
by grand trunk pale scar she wined
her finesome fay come comes to too two
Mona puffed, huffed, and sprinkled her sea bed down the worn heather of her gorse, its piled-up mace. Notthe eerie visage of her love, lover and brooking no tenement inthe saw tooth moon!
Frowns she does at door placed lower back gaze stuck in the eye-way half zone of call . Or tusk and the tinest thinnest udder. What variant of solitude is it? She determines the Phaedrus curls the wing of truth, mayhem and din of her other featherd self. Poor as a cherokee Indian in a time before plinth and politic amazes her stealth, her poor beast aback main. Jill says
No its interior decorating in hell. Samson googles the tenement to see if she be home, her cell phone paging back Oddysseus and the homer by rent queen of epic long river and / Her skin is black. Her philosophy boudoir tent in christian ears to kingdom come for ever now and guffed future,guffed fugitive.
A respite always forces her to pause.
& lumberin g activity . not shined to the hour 's moment or its
and and and.
some play ground is this. Say Prof. Deleu...ze .
come my daughter arrive en paris.
Genet there. Miller. come to the fire Lawerence. language
sez Its Lenz!
quietly quietly. over to the beta ground.
beatified. of undirect discourse. oveR
the ceiling the telescope s bending.
ridge like. little molecuels. cape. escaping.
word . form. play de formation.
its a scheme of optic vision rattles its fare not stoned by cloning gods and father marx fluthered by herring-bones and tweed simple sentences of
closing trades angel Angrinon the park where weaving
gaudy guards thrive
Jill not get rid of that coma and everything will be fine
but butts, she knew this was not clean. Clear as the radial
day might be, or become her commentary found no
discourse in the Muse's 'diadem.' Standing near the
flux of all time and space her clog was clean
her whistle was white, her eraser was tender.
not a lover's blank, but other things
such as eight days a week, or soft machine
or branched out banker and Indian women and
me made love. what?
sometimes it was the air, or other summer clouding
airs that hung her pasture to dry and she was the email
queen of thought, her anger a passion to delay her death.
she was waltz the street of St. Denis, the french cafe
and her hurdles hung her off, she was hurrah huzzah!
and beauty of stranger s hung her buttocks to dry!how disgusting said Franny, can you get yer cheeks
out of the way? what hussiness on yer part leads
you to such flippant goatee beard, and when I was a cigarette
you were very sweet indeed. Come over. I am your Ulysses
bound package for .
the worse of all were not named
She shaking her butt! high ended, low assed buckle seat style! of oriental full!
In a like minded, spirit, we re-create the exretions of secondary strata of parnoioa personal polemics mushing the way of whine collage would be video and especially prissyenglish collage. one notes these matters.
with love and gusts of rainbow kisses
to lucky link his puissant feathers of flock together coventional image display and cutesy deployment of colour. enuff to turn the eyes of most viewers away in boredom and horror. so ti goes but we know its all love in the kind caring desire to grow as the schizo flow wishes to emerge from the dumbnesses of predictable collage makers and their shaggy generators. Hail Hail the gangs all here, so muck and ruck thy weakdumbplatest to rubber vanities of pluck thy headish gooshgash up the arse of fiddle fump foop.
Deareder shower the rain with genre of of of of of rain rain slippingthe yuletide festive up his fundament .
As for effort of repetitve bleeder seconde rate imitater, and false pretenders, we Contend! thy boredom a banished pool of wax!
Now she pedals fruit with her disillusioned vocabularies dictions of mock chicken in her veins or the opened board of the tune and
Speaking before night was the way it sounded as it came
to this its rush and hamper by the way her breath gambles the page
not trusting its truancy grabbing her heart near to any ship
sipping the hour and harming the feel of her cuff and ankle break
not a chance egg but the sportive fist going through the window
of the sky not hammered by the gallery and glance of these
wishing places when Mona multiplied the odds tinkering each
pleat to suit their taste, knowing full well angelic deities
did their best to quiet fate not the hand maiden of the lord
but its rather fractural patron of the cloud and its hammering opposites
Make up my mind, will you? She hovered baking soda close
to the trellis
what disillusioned barbican is this?
Pounce for her typhoon the reckless sailor mated her sword his chilling spore worn away by sprockets kenned to release sore wicked concave of her mirror, his only cutting ice, to her yield. Will be knight to her infinite faith, coward to her deism, shackled by rain forest sundries . Or winding sheets to mother his cows. Now burying the song he comes to her ice and blizzard, cover me to her blankets and rugged pillows. Now words hug the amen its moment.
because you cannot run around again
breasts lips eyes, you rule them and the breath
hefted forward to the plane talking lair
Jill polished shoe shine accusing of class tropes_ gold tipped lip lighter_ ash gray over the eyes of her saffron lips gray gold as night . sees the ringing ringlet of penumbra.
Of mama many there is one~ you then turn the stair.
For we must ---- we are not knotting the lude of pains rift... not delude ourselves--- our selves the beleagured and daring... "Doctor Freud" doesn’t like schizophrenics___ why not? she is schizmhero to my best self. Janine & Mona the wearing tuckeroo! Or tuck the fold of yer nape, the bucaneering fawn of something something its preposal of column word miss... or expectation on the calender... no he does not .... He doesn’t like their resistance to being oedipalized__ Dont cry Mummy when anal sex is yer path past Aunty Oedipi or the blocagage of ism_ grammar halt before steam _ before stream of puttering path __ trends to treat , and tends to treat them more or less as animals__ ,mon animal my animal speaks to gentle genuflect the arching wheel... words or things take missied in the eye of the hand of the lover.... he says.... They mistake words for things, he says_ she does not say she see or hear:. O really? "They are apathetic, narcissisitic," and who not be or kiss the narcissus flower of those cut off from the socious and its " cut off from reality" what night or real in cities of war? is culpbable of death? "incapable of achieving transference" we dont wish to be transfered to trains and death death death .... I philosoph of resemble and not yer high thigh close to my chiar Or Mummy on the bus, the love butter... they resemble philosophers—‘an undesirable resemblance' to becoming the lady O Diotima in the night of Athens and its break down dagger in her back. O mother of dialectic of this trash and teagown O thistle there has been many....
O treasure in the arm of your bay your lintel your little one.... night night...
.of. over headland and shipping mates. the short so soon life. of her hangings
drapes there was few between the coloured crayon and pencil. leaning on
a cash register, smokin g her cloud mist. as only a lover do. the double helix
her sapphic plate the boygirl girlboy her boygum to his love hand. handing
hamadryad to her kiss in the deep window arms around shoulders
rotating, falling clothes, its hip miss and hit the clung neck,
palming face rotating shoulder over her slip off cloth
here kiss these breast she say
these nipples upturned
it is how we kiss my love
saturnalia street the avenue
its here it tells its name hanging by the voce poacher
of a thousand twinnings and things like this left Mona
feathered and capped by the wind of mantle
and breast plate, or flipping off her thongs,
in a scan of intent to sweet talk her lover
a bit of a peacock she was , wasn't she?
in the weather of this straight-line plateau
camps a thousand long woods, and an angel
holding its breath, persecuted by contraries
a troop of melons and melody holds her harbinger
crashing violins chop chop chop/chop
She muzzles the four starred figure
camped by horse and zebra,
a closer second to the friend
and its awesome expression, sleeved arms right up to the wrist
so tasty for a kiss, and sweet the soft sonnet sang,
its bonnet a berry for the chewing.
Pungent as bare wrists, not a sound to beaten out of the hour.
Over the lake a river bounds its leap, debouching its memory.
Illicit union of feather and cob, or string and filgree
abominable as the keel,or the weed hanging off the battered
boat, and we went down
hugging our poorest self mending the care of her face,
and that we sat with the breeze in Kentucky
a werewolf packing the floor, pacing other edible meats
and marrying the hour of its second
truth in a month. Witch craft
cradled its rocking in fortune's weather. Hear the elephant cry
on the hamadran lane its hoarse suit of voice not closer in step to mine
or hers. I , narrator spoke that microphone holding her nose in the air.
Again. This elan of coarse body and my thighs were wore down.
Mona had the passage out, o around the corner of her becoming beckoning .
Later good book she was read. Not read she said, but bled. she wearied. the waving forms off, the avian pears gone .
ok smarty pants then what? she was close to the hour of
knock knock knock then rippling over the cariboo's distant
touch a face clamped the side of the scene seconds to the leeward
heave of the boat.
then its pasty faced mother opend the sail chalkin the tinker of city
chain linking its fences gathered by haze and its nightmare pants
not closer but plunged by love and its button her kissed out belly
marl was libido's heavy cousin its dew draped wood
and the moon lair or the deserted avenue and the bever
or the hanging brocade and a rumpus of children
and close to the Arc de Triomphe we wore our hair long
a mirror for very vanity table and entre-actes overed by
the sea called encounter
teeming bells of the druid and the bell-whether or bleats its honk
Mona has pants to tell winds, routines to spell checking,
cheeks to glow, or hale looking to reroute the doggers
Taking shape around dice and clamped udders the woman glided
over the hills of that mountain country not happy with their
rotten lives. Mona hapily appeared a star from harridan
freeing force. Intensity of her sting ray shaped the poplar
and unknown fisticuffs of bats and maze rings and fog
wore her hair out, her body tired, dog tired as any.
Language of peril and perish the thought .
Are those morning bells she hears, in the hearkening
or unheralded cloth, a veronica maybe? she has a sex
like a forwarding looking becoming next to her body
self, bawdy as bastioned witches and whelped creatures,
slumbering by golden ridden city and poorest of all was
her body-without-organs spread forth among bullrush
and blue hill.
Expressly for her Jill scamped the plains and the plane of consistency,
hugger mugger matey, love yer tethering teeth,
pull the knot of myself
missed that bracket dot
waking the tree
holding its fat ring
over the heeled bread ending
of communion wafers and sock it to her baby punches
and reading her fist fitting to the pedlar's afternoon
red wing and fried hair
her it cometh her black clothes, waylaid by sexy and
tubercular blues, over the bus stop busting stop
breath take forsake. candy won.of this and that
at Jill's home was memory. R came to see him
when he was her. at home. Gilford. her white slacks
ass gleamed. In ATP we find ourselves heading for geology
and marker of time. or fish. and market place. a white train
in the hills just past the prairies. and the skullcap frown
on the cloth.
tonight she was speaking to the air of its hearing.
she peeps over shore riding back in time .
yellow wind carrying a child on her horse, a cithern
constant as caretaker. perambulating a pirate has come to her heart
over_ed the board and not news to his place in paris,
onthe praries were the shack she visited. it was the night
of calvary, trotting amazed horse whinny. in the sun
was trouble gleamed by the forest bugler.
Jill paired the still, jet fleece
at the prose hour of its cleat.
there it was jill s eye standoffish in the air, jeweler's eyepiece
a night strata of caring weeds. or necklaced. rattler.
by the statue of degas and monet was the fallopian tube
flappers over the street and boulevard of the lane when he came of age. his naked tunic a place to hold forth
rents and paid fortissimos opera and calender
kinked out to suit the mate
and aside from that she was charity's children crowded precurser of the memory box and her heart was ganglanded by what she wondered, a cliche harpooning thought of this from boy to girl I am the one of her arm courtesan and scented lace and then jolly trains of fur?(crepe) and underthings she kissed
as her held the folding of his sex in hers, up her swinging body huggin
him inside warrior and sorcerer of her hand and shoulderblade
it was something to listen in on the lover and brewing sweat they kept
pummeling a sort of organ breaking in the double bodied vow of their love dominion of dearness and over he kept knocking on her door, her hand opened its plate filled with fruit close verbs and sleeping nouns
to predicate her awesome arms and she chose to bring him closer
and his close was her near so she was his sexorgan that hourglass
of hocus-pocus and humiliation as surrending was weaker each second and hungering the moment of his quilt breaking down the nape of his neck poision tongue licks him up into the soup of her becomings. its his sex hers. not naked as the vulva meeting cock
of bliss and carnal affairs charity in its forms awake chaired by the love of lake, and brook. But brook no evil she can. shes waitin' for the sin to bake the cake!
what says Deleuze is this, I hear about evil? get off those stairs you silly goat , you old goat!
is this anyway to treat yer teacher, wand waves
in the air, DeSade arrives. Excuse me, you little sucker
dont get saucy with me
egg shell wrappings. riddle d cement pavement
Mona gathers grapefruit, Mona gun moll,
working the front gate of history? you remember when we danced?
its time I taught you punishment is love.
ticker tape of desire log desiremachine desire shape and shade
Or wait a fervour to button down her beat.
Or say a free fridge comes with the apartment...
except her shank of ring-wing ear tipped fear her fathering night bore her. taked her heart in the gangplank forsworn foresawn?
odd ball eye brows wink in sun beared shroud the goosing geese o combers of pink white sea feet tatler the cage over pasture mead and bear bog town
gesture a hand over her back curve outward her gamey foot
my sweet your breasts
give me eggs give me shine give me peace
pike and nard her only prepare
coil ware uh-huh wiring warning
shuttle bookish moon
sward shuttle hominy omnibus assault
hip-hop sputter sleazy sunder ferrule
clause fervent reserve holding thrust sputter albumin tensile ho-hum attache gigolo wizard written fervent reserve brash hoop red-hot sleazy lam warning
albumin insult gigolo tattoo
ecstasy brash incisor and Franny gestures a Z in a somber precursor that no one also what thought should be, and is the somber precursor Zen master with his the lightning that makes Deleuze happy to have a Zed it is to have done this." Posthumous, and she replies "PostZume!" The "And thank you for without wiring clayey manatee tensile pustule omnibus sunbeam muff omnibus assaultstorage magnify
uh-huh gigolo red-hot ellipseen Paris en Paris en Paris
hip-hop sputter sleazy insult pustule salable sang muff omnibus hoop sputter of great poultries poesieslosophers: Zen, BergZon Franny laughs , and laughs, saying she has BergZon and very kind considers Zed to be establishes a return to zigging movement of the finds in the names Zarathoustra, Licknitz, Nietzs's mother Doctor SinoSpoza, of course, Mona. Mona been very witty with toward Mona herself . She a great letter that A, the fly, the fly,ecstasy tattoo
clause holding ellipse
sweater clayey anklet gigolo wizard ware without hominy muff incisor bookish without wiring warning, there is the how the world was born. There and there is the what philosophy also the and then the blow stick. So for Mona, the blow have finished. Penny asks a final and laughs. He pauses and says, looks at Penny and camera tracks and then all of your kindness
hip-hop-hop-hop ho-hum written for you
ok ok ok ok ok
in this world' s really bad movie she has fripperies and navies but not stock broker s to to hiss their flying machines over the stage. all the world a critical being she hankers her bosom to his face. what face might that be, but the son of her oedipalized veins, cup throating her body boat to his amaze and more. not seconded by wasted hours she wins his seething pot. wait.
Mona says " I need someone like a philosophical stream"
Seizes the hour " like real streaming video of yer heart"
beating by his in the hun like hour before dawn. what dawn would bore in the sentry like hour of night, when lovers hug or over the warmth of care, they've given their babies to night. is this some space between her leg
Not noticed he always say her name, news comes fast, too so, as war
does and media Pandora's box of hate rumour shit steering the back page of death.
Not a single soldier left, she trooped on. Ward, like a baby does. Or billygoats, over bibliographies of beulahland homespun sparrow rused words.
Into her mouth. they came . as winding . no win.d. no win. or some open place in her body gathered him up her vagina womb weeping.
its time piece clicking clocking the mundane way and day
is only a moon in your sky
your body is skinny and your heart is large
its Jill 's only boat to Toronto and other lakes
when misery takes it s toll shivering past the halt error of morning its prize
if you must hold it come closer to gather its awnings
over a lace holding it apart, us apart, a vellum velvet
seed to carry the fruit of its blossoming
and chaise longued to wake the dying
gift, gift-breath) on which no consequent language... can be superImpoSed... the writerly text
is ourselves writing.. before the infinite play of the world... is
stopped plasticized by some singluar system.... which reduces the plurality of entrances,
the opening of networks, the infinity of languages.... (lingos, slangs, idiolects_ my love!)... Puff of breaht over Barthe's S/ Z a zexy book what with eyes, to see and all, ears to hear,
hand to lap... Mona was the saucy one of holden rain it gif the crabbed mountain face of air after air and Richard the lion hearted's face... over the hill and dale of its evensong and matins was breaked strong the bread busted the hyaline feature of its lip bearing transmuted by her lip to lip talk
I was always rocked by her swoon. O this is cheese! she said sister~!
its cause she wore a corsage you were late. under her skirt,
a veil, veiling the hour of her sexual becomings of
wanting hungering hanker need bite into the sweet
taste of her tucking womb
That sucks Fanny come over into my womb real quick
stage coach style making her herd the mile
galloping across quick staminas of fright
meridian to her
Oh that burneth says Prof. Deluded. come to my open hearse.
i am pumping the bible of all bridges making the navigate
safe for all travellos.
Bordellos? with lucky Lucy? and her lacy underthings?
come you jealous wench, a threesome always been
an aggravation to you, and the humdinger swing
of your trollope
elbow out a strata marries the momenti.
Italy is our saviour!
this will be near and far, of course closer than further with
the rapid wing of thought. sparing the
poor thing from pain.
by grand canal and they sat weeping their heart.
weeping not wee piggin you silly fool!
singlular hour of top masts me hearties,
for swinging around the pike
the dromedary dromos
the top gallant mast
back and back its darling woes and summers the rest
what a bore, you are, she wrote to an old friend, bored with his predictable diction and spindraughting the easy subjective choice.
Will pirates seize the high ocean rum of bucaneer bachelor machines?
she pulls the plug in the room hums desire desire desire delire mon ami
a tendresses ces mots sont les
by Andre Malraux the den of thieves
the quarry of boots
the dome of star fish
the diaster of Menipuss is that her spelling of the geologyh of mystified becomings les devenirs de sept jours?
Oh dear, I come fleer like to the page of solemn oaths, Noahs on my calender of thiefing.
In your lip verb there is chunks of wheat. For year.s She flung hung her sowing sown sword over his vizier.
Menipuss out of my way lad. Hanging out in tents with pall bearers is not my idea of fun.
She carries cam corders on her back and knave. She is vixen to his hoyden. The Japanese girl's walk wavers weave to fuck my mouth all night, to fuck my heart, my cock.
your cock? you old roue! rousing the death of bleats!
crowding the stage of genitals and genial jobbers rubbing fortune and big weaving ports to your skull cap, how does it add to augment the stars of her roof, and the hair of her hallowed mead? shall handing thighs make purchase on trading meats, chaste?
Ahoy, ahoy! me hearties blandishment and knock-abouts
make yer day a dilly-dally piracy of sodden tom boys, hickory hidalgoes and trumpets you love.
Ho ho ho. And the tu-whit tu-whit __
Inlude_inluding _ textual and nontexual reference, deviation, divagation, horizontal flex; slipping, slope away frame, open immanence-------------------------
Franny Mona live on a hat in her hand Immanence of same gender doubled in hind . she was everywhere stilling s.lid.e.r. Or coursed by the wind.In the Anatomy of love's body she heard word learned herd of living on her schizo's underbelly wanting to love her.
anchor, weight of earth. used as verb and shizo-gerundive; poetic de_vice of verse, in honour or secret comment to, a text, outside the I, of author of.
avanuntism _______________Mona has a mouth in her mind yet to more.
his majesty of ugliness and the Ughliosa,
remember her, AntiO?
remember the rules of harlotry
pay before you leave
go before you go, guess when you arrive. riddled by the count and
the Madame. standing there. all wizen'd with the hair line
of counting the days go off, and plateau_ing that dont
mingle with other.
Are you Missing?
Missing what? missing in action, beloved. harmonics of distress
and her pleasant desert
Inside this knap sack lies the wisdom of crystal balls
world on world in heaven.
Really! query Mona she the arriviste of champions knows there's nothing to bake with her left hand missing checking her prose machine with adultery and other fair bear words.
Really my love there wil l never be anything wrong with us,
we're perfect pitched sparrows in the tent
of our wedding seeding of the moment.
- Over at geology school the hysteron of the world's congealed
into petty problems and wrongs . There's no story in that.
Keep going. Keepsake to lovers' rules.
air its abscence a credulous stop for being. was being becoming when the river professor sold her rights to song . bending the rules, just alittle , a tad too long , waking waves to grander pasture s of wrong, of wrong. She saunter to the water, a walker she saunter to the water a walker. Its held bound plate her hand, a plateau of peace. To bear her word.
what dapple is this, Mona? where the cheer herds hay, and __
mouths pray .