Wednesday, August 20, 2003

lariat day. the ramparts of pickled process detonate in stupid. oh crimson dawn, that goes mushy in change, allowing Republicans in. in to the next hint but not enough. lariat waves of something something for the sake of terrific, called the next fine day. and so much depends, etc, until we come to the end of the sentence. telling how it is, while dawn turns into green. green's okay, it shows us something. dragonfly perched somewhere, sometime. crazed dispatch of more, when day turns on noon, yellow and something. there's a blue sky, a brown dirt patch and splendid people, splendid. 'you talk too fast', someone says, making a period appear from nowhere.

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