Wednesday, October 29, 2003

poli sigh 

dogging detail down the street and peeing on a hyrant then march to a tax haven call for a friend who wears green pants or something so luscious of colour that tax programs melt then demonstrate where equivocal gets its funding and who puts the hydrants where to fulfil the necessities of some not all in Star Trek you can believe that day will bring cunning to fruition

alien hang time places wreathes on gravesites you could wish loss were redeemable or blessed for quality in the less than fullness of time but instead live in the tour across universe and the gap that sentences make

I wish I had said that someone imputes or pours out of a pitcher lumpen excellence among your neighbours or the broom that sweeps the floor

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