Sunday, November 09, 2003

sun as late as score points. trouble in Mexico, Philippines, elsewhere marked. transitions galore, uniting details who march. friction turns the word. people outside of heroes rely in an enumeration of vital plastic neatness. driven to traction, to the field of bent load, they go and: here's a telltale:

the saucer lands and Greeby, toasted, scowls at the backwater. people in trucks and cars, yawning. a warzone is history when you can see such special work. the people talk. Greeby knocks back a moment, then scowls more. this is the history lament, a truck back to the beginning. at the beginning, holy hell of a sun past. wars are special in the brink. nicely, nice things to say. brought into stone came and went. the people want to eat at Red Lobster, drink coffee or blight. not a charm remains, after taxes.

then inattention as an issue. are you really President Bush, Greeby asks, and all that means?

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