Tuesday, October 14, 2003

foxhunter's reel 

hangman, what a boon. a blame fears almost anything accrued. document drew a search probe possible iniquity in rural underbelly then states a poetics based on blank pages. hangman suffers some odd function dream, works in the state. the stated make a program and gas, buoyed in the several. hangman trips a switch of anything, all things fall out such temperate resolution. practice an Afghan task, diligent posse patters. hangman scrubs the surface and is devoured, cool with it. cool with what was a day, until night and its taming. aliens aren't even in the story except to say they are not in the story. look at the sky fanning out from your vantage. trust the inscape, says the program, bunting on all buildings. trust the landscape but for needs and inquiries. hangman ropes a tree to set dangling. settled in dangling, work accomplished, hangman hangs up.

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