Saturday, October 25, 2003

do you miss your lover too? what flock swept by as we looked, engineered of trees and landscape, so we saw? do we miss approximations in the minding of rite? declarations and standard stand forth. we've tried a few words, and they were real. we spoke and left things 'there'. when an alien looks at news and numbers, adds and qualifies, we've got a button to push. aliens aren't primeval in the way we know the earth. they've floated, what a trip. a motorcycle could extrude love of land and going, but that's a picture in a song. the aliens seem like preparation, tho poetry always has a time to fulfill. today is modest compact, and the poets are expressed. if there's a career to die in, let the numerous find prime.

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