Friday, April 09, 2004

this is when I am here, but at a fright of prose, for the weary segments don't produce, in fact they ruin our perspective with long camera views of molten planets and gaseous states near Ronald Reagan. that was a timeless war ago, long before books could intermarry and the idea of non-alien birth could strike one as laughable. it's all before us, like structure or the can into which the worms went at the end of a long day. fish for another symbol or pronoun. our discussion becomes upbeat after downcast spends itself. George W Reagan is a hill of beans located first of all in luck, and his daddy blurs in smear. riches relate to the next moment. aliens plan to serenade Iraq for terpsichore and debt. luck holds out, but just barely. inside of a minute we'll all know: a blue flash and then

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