We'll be waiting at the ranch

Turn Left at the Toyota dealership and
right at Del Taco.

I can do something else other than this
will for employment, unlike les bouges,
she says, laughing. You need a pass to the
Socialist conference, too. Use an adverb
to make your opinions less general,
that was in my other life; but I'm
worried about you--you're wearing
sweatpants and have a girlfriend.
It's a complex situation. Are the birds
singing? There's a man at the door with
a bucket of bony farm trout.

The monk came to the door, performed
his rites, and, somewhere underground in
a ruinous wine cellar, kissed and walled me up.

Adult Treats

All the dearest colors of the
rainbow bored with responses
to hormones. Talk about the
feral parrots left bike and boyfriend
not teenage love among young
people sick of slang for drugs.
Floral. I say do more now and "what
are you doing here?" Explain
everything with sports, everyone's
the same age until we speak.

I come home after the murder,
bodies dissolving in acid, babies
and puppies saved from Iraq.
THIS CHANNEL WILL RETURN SOON,
but we're draining brief. Saw my
first former student at a bar
not in DC or LA or New York.
I don't want to be rude, but.

Raised on the good news that's
always gone by the time we're
older. I believe again. Goodbye,
door! It's true, it's true, I'm
sure you think so. "Being

sarcastic is not nice," but it's
being blunt. I don't like most
rich people. My country gives

poor people money. My utopia
is a basketball court. Walking
to the mall along roads with no

sidewalks in the rain. My weekend
sucked, but I understand your
explanation. When did my language

stop sprawling? Wrack all over an
unusual beach, brain
recently removed like seaweed.

Biking through car country all
those people we love

and corn fields open
use land cares for other

strawberries and flowers.

It's boys against girls and
the girls know it but the

boys don't. I'm ready to
be punched. Here's my

flag. I'd care about my
neighbours. Bring them extra

squash.

Effective restroom use and
spring

peepers create feelings.

I don't understand spring in February.

Sensory deprivation tank--
where can I find one, Lorraine?
Human works, I don't

notice I love you, It's
productive.

These are the Six Factors in my Regression Analysis

I'm with security. Also, you might think I'm
potentially gay. Rock singers are often
short. Hug into your center. The bank
robbers have eyes that flow, cash box
is right. Man, if I were a man I'd never
say I was jealous, but I'm wary of
any rhetoric of hope--what's wrong with
you that you're hopeful. I believe in peace,
yes, but body type doesn't only matter
in sports. That's what I mean: the men
leap high, and I want to marry one.
I want to move to the city to feel
angry, sane, and safe (no more boyfriends
from the DOD). I won't last long.
I should have bombed the test,
been a better structuralist.

Love Sunday and trombone players, delirious
above-ground serenades, the in between dance
and next Sunday with flowers, heart through
March and into May. But someone has to
knock at the door sometime. Then, off to
the palace of the GrandeVisir, probably in
Afghanistan. My lover is Zero, once so happy
at the organ grinder. A vaguely erotic
dance with no men or only a man.
Kiss my bonnet. I'm dead

My Love Roderick Usher Part Deux

Son coeur on horseback, against original music
and complex stairways at odd angles, always in
a corsage and housecoat. Flying coffins make
me swoon, and the doorbell, dreaming when
I answer, all gloved and rugged, bodies
delicious and elongated. Multiply into dead
things, a geometric swoon, a stranger and
a chronic girl-in-wall. Hello, lover, I designed
myself myself, beat beat. And in the book I
find a breaking open. "Look," he says with flair.
Dead on dead.

There is a war and I helped. Swimming pool by the Euphrates. Anything can be genitalia. Sorry.

I've got big love

Wanted to say "innarested," like "you are
uptight"--that's a process.

Fine, bondage turns us on but I don't
want to chain myself up. That's not sexy

and self-immolation is a statement. And
this, details. I think words are a body,

obviously, and I don't have to get up
early tomorrow, but will. This conversation

makes me satisfyingly uncomfortable,
but someone else has to be here, listening,

ready to abduct us or something, ready
to skin me in high European tradition while

whispering words like litmus, liminal, abjection.

And the traffic. O! Le trafic!

Always, "What are you (men) afraid of? I am like a man, and first I read Nietzsche, read you quotes about cows. Every boy I ever loved read Will to Power after we broke up, loved Ginsberg and Kerouac--no, loved On the Road and Howl but not the writers. The smarter ones read the Surrealist Manifesto and maybe Nadja. Actually none of them read Nadja. I'm a naked ghost, but trying to sink through the floorboards is getting boring, and I'm done with following my lover out into the night, woods or no. The roads are so wide. And the traffic. O! Le trafic!

Tumors, de quoi tees vows (des homes) affray? Je sues come home, tabard je lies Nietzsche, and lug vows cite au suet des aches. Claque garcon jay jamie aimed la volute lee pour auctioneer après queue nous axons cases veers le haut, axons aimed Ginsberg et Kerouac -- le non, a aimed sure la route et l' horsemint mains pas les auteur. Les plus fêtes not lug le manifested peat ere le Najd surrealists. En fait acne deluxe no’s lug Najd. Je sues fandom nu, mains lessee de descended par les blanches deviant ennui you, je sues fait avec shiver moon amorous dehorns dams la unit, les bois our le none. Les routes sent is larges. Le traffic. O! Le traffique!

Always, of what are you (men) frightened? I am like a man, and initially I read Nietzsche, read quotes to you about the cows. Each boy I ever liked the will read to actuate after we broke to the top, liked Ginsberg and Kerouac -- not; liked on the road and the howl but not the authors. The smartest read the surrealist proclamation and perhaps Nadja. In fact none them read Nadja. I am a naked phantom, but the test to go down by the boards becomes tedious, and I am made with following in my love outside in the night, wood or not. The roads are so broad. And traffic. O! The traffic one!

Tudors, de quoi eats vogues (des homes) aver vogues affrays? Je suits comet homed, au commencement je list Nietzsche, list des citations à vogues au subject des vetches. Claques garcons jail zamias aimer la volunteer lie pour unclenches après queen nous nous swoons cusses jugs au discus, au Ginsberg aimer au Kerouac -- pas; aimer surd la route equestrians maims pas les auteur. Le plus fate a flu la proclamation pouts eyre le Nadia surrealists. En fait augur ails nay flu Nadia. Je suits fan tome nu, maims lessees à descanter par les congeals devein panicle, je suits fait avec skiver darns monk amour dehorn la units, bois ox pas. Les routes soot sin larges. le tragic. O! Le tragic un!!

Always, of what are you (men) you frightened? I am like a man, and at the beginning I read Nietzsche, read quotations with you about the cows. Each boy I ever liked the will read to engage after we broke with the top, liked Ginsberg and Kerouac -- not; liked on the road and the howl but not the authors. Smartest read the surrealist proclamation and perhaps Nadja. In fact no, they read Nadja. I am a naked phantom, but the test to be gone down by the councils becomes painful, and I am made with following in my love outside the night, drink or not. The roads are so broad. And traffic. O! Traffic one!!

Said we'd write a
---Where's my" Fog.
And unexpected sentence.
Congratulations!
Comp. Pile.

~

Defensive about open
heartjoy. Relax, you jerk.
Relax, baby. Purrr.

~

My body thinks short men are hot because they are easier to control. The response is adjective adjective.

I mean--ur a---respect----don't
Mamma's boy? Teacher? I know
nothing about cars. Kind of.
Stop touching me---this isn't cultural, it's
--
no. not anybody can play. Am I like a
woman to you?
--
The problem is family. Oochy coo etc.

Whatever you--

I don't understand the question

No what no!

Yes, thought so; as if your

head were a nut (picture)

your hobby (another picture)

conversely. Now you can get away.

~

Let's make mournful sounds together

tonite!

Blow it up

inside the brain you saw more brain

your irritating OM : shoulders in ear

opus; or new series 1 based on something

Nothing else is happening. No again. Award
winning romance with the now correct baseline.
I'm a woman in the correct marketing niche
at last, for dancing. Please dump your boyfriend
and move to LA, but I don't want to be like everyone
giving the beautiful pregnant woman advice--fall
in love with me and leave the suburbs. If you
can actually talk to men I'll talk to you. With.
Now I am a US Marshal listening to high-spirited
drunks. Like squirrels, we were yuppies at
a conference. Boom boom boom. We weren't
looking for jobs. We were looking for dinner music.

Your exported good cheer--teacher, a swimming pool
I love, proxima my home. Me too. Whine is like a funny
child the angry students ate, were eaten (by the President).
My advices are numerous and thank you. Everyday ribknife
undiagnosed wake. Like living in an ashram where all my
speech is pitter patter on the fireplace hearth rug. Stuck
art work. Better frozen. It was fine. It was great, actually.

The daily nausea and deadlines--I throw up less
often, love getting messages, tell me something
about hunger and sleep deprivation and recovering
from mysterious illnesses and the general malaise
of careful speech all day. What is an eggplant?
10 minutes. What is the correct response if you
don't know how you feel. I don't know how you
feel. Liar. Such as vibrant wanting to be loved
and independent, what to do with easy achievement.
I'm bored. Do a forward bend and do a forward bend.
Notice the obvious beauty of something in nature,
like a dragonfly! Inutile stamped on your forehead
--if the bureaucracy were your body, I guess the
nausea would be constant, my longing.

Or else, just tie me up so we can have really cliched rough sex against a wall and smash a light bulb.

Get a visa where people are smiling. "All in all
they are fashionable," like a prison. Please be quiet,
winningly mutters, says: yay! while eating gnocchi,
remembering induced wholeness, the man in
the hello kitty hat who wants to know what
you're doing later. You want to make a pretty box.
Say sex. That helps.

Get out of my space.

The earth's not boundless love. Or a she.

White woman connecting to the earth with drum.

You are an uptight jerk.