R/ckets and S/ntries

policy flops over, angels leave Damascas. air raid of informants pull for presidential dial tone, but this mixes up the present administration. a lama's on the loose, and nomads over sands, while in jungles and cities equal justice assaults a piece of planet. mordant slice of nature for a proud person, hopping to the place of injunction and seeking candidates with aura. now it's your turn, comes the laugh. it's on the broadcast even now, but later will be better. slapping at alien envy because the universe appears rather large, and where we are placed seems like the perfect conjunction, and the rhymes we've assembled might tickle the application of heaven. see how these certainties pale against the plopping sound of each next shoe that drops? this machine is ours, living as we do, in the position of fragments and the alignment of ghosts. angels leave New York now, it's possible they have a genuine cause to consider.