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Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Poem-"Cultural Secret"

"Cultural Secret"

I must to wash the shadow on my nose when a gust has its reflection,
To move that star beyond flowing hearts to colors bounced over protection:
Sun may prove fit as complexity of skin tucks a few words in blue heat,
When stinging response about buttons on knots opens through exotic cheat.




*At times when I talk about my real life in exact terms, I come up with poems that seem fictional.  I guess you can say I’m providing communication here that allows you, or that star, to get more comfortable with my abstractions.  Even at those times when I’d have a negative mind while reading this poem I sensed a kind of roaring feeling that softens up beneath the bluegrass out front when I’d recite something that’s of Arabic influence.  I like digging into foreign languages and speaking as though I’m still alive with this empty vessel of flame which results in my cold frame.  I’m not throwing away poetry here, I’m mandating it.

Monday, May 29, 2017

Poem- "Vivid Attention"

Here's an article about a monkey's focus.

http://lsr-web.net/Assets/NEIPages/BobWurtz/pdfs/WurtzGoldberg72.pdf



Now then, on to my poem!

"Vivid Attention"

Twilight souls of imperial love in personal rest became
the pulse of a reversal against loud records with their
mellow ring of our galaxy, these avian cardinals, forest
dawn of its primary month within magnetism of reed;
it was a line up on dialogue for coffee to its mode
like melba, duty foil over, to remember British death
at one vampish temple with sovereign feelings a
god to a god through decorations of cavemen, because
of fresh data beyond comedic dimensions. I'd find
cures to a girl in my neighborhood's activities
in evolution with throwbacks, yet an ironman from
my state's capitol probably knew cops who were
pretty salty by human condition. There were
combat songs along the lines of transcriptions of
music or the histoire of 60's culture at slow
variations of baseball. Django! Mom knew partners
in crime of rhapsody as we headed to a museum
of ritz in the city of angels, but, my painting revealed
marble eclipses in relation to Saturn's interference,
my brows on those white colors over back roads
to freedom. We would've known the yak of old age
due to reviving good feelings eternally balanced,
such as dad's muddy source so hardwired of clichés
during top hits on radio; we'd boogie to mysterious
chance in morning time while urban cowboy hats
added starlight of thunder near passion fruit, coming
on as wimps of eternal balance transforming my little
brother's firestarter of silver bells which colored me
wilderness in global warmth. Still, static rap to us
revealed truth to room service with teenage beats
on complete missions between dub and a children's
book of redbone hurting a lovely lady's jackpot south
of the boarder, on parish of rest in mellow retirement
for my guardians who involved camaraderie of
numbness. We had nesting dolls in a Maddox from
communist stores so we were to know bird weather
which started fords to ancient memory (dirty gloves
on energy as light commanders). Of course, expen-
sive satin had to do with a racist in London driving
up a saloon with Monopoly images thus pictures to
handle correction reeled in exceptional magic for me
to imagine a strop; my family would plaw the slow eggs.
I was under the influence of taste for those sandwich
islands of medicinal monkeypod mimosa and owned
this shadow gone against my tongue. Ancients knew
about the creativity of papyrus for general liberty of
armies, autumn to a beginning saint of Christ in Italy
from wish around famous beach; so much commercial
freedom my hike for goulash within European contrast
as arco fireworks allowed my tale:

I was allowed to start my tale at a pitch for miles, call
on job to clap your aid at the speed of virtue. It was
destruction to attention over attitude difficulty, on ano-
ther page from help with sympathetic aura. I was kno-
wing an illegal ghost to haunted houses as she found
seats and cushion to the tier through independent
suddenness on mom's easy rose. There was déjà vu
about her husband's expression of her delivery, similar
to moonbows by a liquor store between dreams and
jubilee on marseilles to broken cotton as plenty of fish
lived upon their net, some pitchers into softball to hold
wood since a devil was born from stars like some
wolverine to charge at three phoenixes. I crossed
western tumbleweeds with unopened truth in secure
options to resume play for Popeye at a lion's school-
house on turbo budget with complete tools, to get out
old instructions in my thinking membranes for Pac-Man
so personality and opponent average lived outside
my aspirated illusion, struggling through at a looking
glass on arcade machines to various definitions. The
turmeric lion was frozen from an old apple by a mouse
who ate her baby. I let a choir pop their eye; I was
existing upon stadiums while ABC's was flirted, getting
through to critical substitution thanks to two coaches
about titanic athleticism in major leagues before going
for first class operation on a great dinner at Yolanda's;
I had to get enough years for a puzzle. Frisdrank zetten.
Soda to make was a gift light for perfection in singular
reversal like holy Daniel's passless zing to poetry's
layered progress; I'd learned over the miasma of our
gold rush in commotion up to memory to dodge at new
worlds with colonial sports, a healthy shaw in Egypt
in darkness of answer for trouble-leaders who were
always on a singular reversal to impressive valor. I tucked
a berry well into four baskets in gift hour for rich work
to leave a viral stub of my pencil with pressure on the
web. Something was curious. What? It made beauty
a sore in its prime sojourn though I loved the proud
smoke of trash in our few fireplaces after returning from
trackball arcades of youth, seeing mellow drama on
parts of nice actors near sleepiest poinsettias for a
practical hoop city of romantic hotlines, main influences
of stiff drinks for quite a bit of comfort to share orca
blasts (the turnaround) ringing in public awards from
successful animals. Among palisades when fall ended,
my degree to liberal performances with uproar on
privilege, dad's whistle on nature trails to pizzerias
brought back memory of Louisianan sugar in the chill
of moving heat in mom's discovery of art by a moon
that sunk. I was baby in transliteration to glory with a
Chinese fan while recalling jazz piano in retirement homes
for boy scouts, to discuss French fathers and German
gentlemen about my dad's ancestry to revolve my liberty
so that seven rabbits for Easter appeal with blank stares
of grandma's organ could understand our cosmesis of
Hawaiian shirts- airlocks by the Pacific Ocean, herbs in
froth by drink, Polish families in real estate, mariposas
toward sandbars on Oktoberfest, a low school of boos to
international competition over food, a sample for cancaos
in this divorced home of awkward smell and contemporary
religion, the jungle of city lights to hard stars by reflecting
hills my math teacher's magic of charm complemented to,
little toy guns with missing bubbles, my mother's pain
reducing knee from taco shacks while she followed eight
out of fourteen and her holy blanket on a couch near fans
which had worthed some dollars for the upper reaches of
shadow deer, final desires when time flew upon past ache
at unique heat changing throughout our fissures many
findings as complex enough in mystical sleep when the
fair's funhouse of the jam concealed new richness beyond
mom's robotic artisan, aphonia of depression to a fresh jersey
as directed through more stain on preoccupied strings,
instrumental loneliness (me). The ritual paloma's uttered
sight of interrupted shadows at Sea World in freedom of
talents to withhold regressions of pain at forced opportunity
against exclusive moments would roar fanatic hugs like
dire poems, mission possibilities I was out of judgment of
toward the ones in math. That oriental soapberry in my
rich dark chocolate as professional dish with it resumed
classical overtures for likened choices as I received from
within me ideas of alternative talk from doctors to
puppies, desolation of cleanliness to my appetite in wis-
dom of shopping my family partook through manifestation
of color theory, my body of defense from sparkling thirst to
create our guess with life: a gross concert of parrots at a call
within minutes to leverage for exotic collections, to the
expansion of sweethearts aroused by incredible hunger
when national painting and the brownie alaskas displayed
transportation of love as its contrary to flay of politics; the
disability of grain, a bridge to the side of pretensities, as I
watched a delicious Napoleon in his apetalous story at the
all new Sunday of prayer. Now I'm relaxing across from the
red games of keno to hear casino jazz and celebrate fiestas
with proper songs because of the harmony of musicians,
hummingbirds between meals to apartment gardens-
that's my skin prescription.

If you don't understand me, you hate to be right.


It's not a nice place when it's a pleasure to meet you:
A strange guy's premiere history of the support,
Growth of my taste beyond the upper reaches.

*This poem is like an abstract painting because I tell readers in it what my past was like without being specific as to when. It's a combination of childhood and adulthood.

http://gameuniverso.deviantart.com/art/Vivid-Attention-683462746

Sunday, May 28, 2017

Photo- "Magic Wand"/Poem- "A Room in the Seven"


"Magical Wand"

This is Sony's recent controller but with a twist on its picture with a Nintendo portable.
I've seen other controllers out there so this should complement the subject.

"Sony Wand of great 'n powerful magic! Taken from perspectives off first hand, 'course the photo snapped out of my DSi Camera which is the fuction Apple's iPhone can't seem t'handle. Why touch a screen just,? Use of a stylus or stilo pen could be as responsive as our butterfingers: just whistle while you work."-May 26, 2011

"A Room in the Seven"

Fireworks.
Fireworks.
Let me meet your fireworks.
I can go where fire sees.
Let me meet your fireworks.






*The Chinese dialects in the Chinese Republic were considered for this song, with a pinch of German and lots of comedy.

McDonald's Review, 795 Tucker Rd Tehachapi, CA 93561

McDonald's Review
795 Tucker Rd
Tehachapi, CA 93561

Between my soul brothers in the lobby final thoughts when time flies on delicious burgers are just resulted from dad's cosmesis of Hawaiian shirts and mom's pain reducing knee from a taco shack at the edge of this little town known as Tehachapi, as we follow eight out of fourteen options from McD's menu to get unique heat out of those fries even when discovery of food by a moon that sinks reveals the main influences from McFlurries for quite a bit of comfort.  I revolve my preference with ache from the past as first step to recovery due to the turnaround of rich food on the back road to freedom.  (Drive-Thru.)  The revival of good feelings because of yak among us adds truth to the restaurant's services in pig latin beyond infinity in the morning yet ice cream at McDonald's colors me wilderness on global warmth.  My throwback of taste is like static rap that plays in another building like Jack or Subway when the human condition of organization is the combat way of crew members at this establishment near Tucker Road.  Slow variations of presentation by fellow workers serve as the complete missions on their camaraderie of minimum wage and thus our thriller enjoyment on the parish of rest is because of the crew's eternal balance and transcriptions of favorite songs, a children's book of redbone at the corner of a stranger's table far from my family as my parents are in mellow retirement against teenage beats and alternative talk from doctors to puppies.  There's a new richness of flavors from the Big Mac in its freedom of grain as proper songs ring in my head from visits I've paid around Golden Hills, although sometimes the desolation of cleanliness near the decorated counters is just a piece to the employees’ harmony of task as chefs in the back wrap up professional dishes like a smooth deck of poker.  New sunshine hits the windows against rolling mountains in panoramic view as though our atmosphere is in a kind of mystical sleep.  Besides, a bridge of social behaviors to the side of imagination keeps us in tune for our dramatic reactions of the incredible hunger in the name of humorous gaps within the all new Sunday of prayer.  My wisdom of shopping in the expansion of sweethearts involves the transportation of love with us in the Drive-Thru on the mixture of choices for the gloss of sour tastes on dipped chicken nuggets and difficulty of signals in gaiety with the more-than-kind crew.  I've seen a manager use a complete tool to provide me with slow eggs in secure options to resume his job.  We've been beginning a car as a call on role to know the influence for our tastes at McDonald's near Albertson's here, but at the speed of virtue many workers clap our aid on another chapter from help with sympathetic airs to determine on old instructions for light command on management.

https://www.mcdonalds.com/us/en-us.html

File:Ebi burger.jpg
This is an Ebi Burger from Singapore.
Sure it's not related to this review, but why not?

Saturday, May 27, 2017

Subway Review- 655 Tucker Rd Tehachapi, CA 93561

Subway Review
655 Tucker Rd
Tehachapi, CA 93561

A bit of Caesar sauce went over my styled chicken in time for the spreading of salt and pepper by a green worker.  Sometimes I wished there was a tour for all those flavors so that I wouldn't have the difficulty of favorites during the opportune minutes of selection.  Many of these employees knew about the instructions for heat that roared out of a type of toasting machine with flashing seconds against food preparation, although Subway's crew near Tucker Road had assumed in quick notion the unavailability of deli delights, of all which I actually really cared for because my ways of taste had to involve the sheer variety of stuff.  Discussion of Macadamia nuts between mom and I occurred at the speed of decision making as my family waited strictly through time among us to share the goods with preoccupied feelings for junk food.  Obviously a person's healthy status was related to Subway as busy parents soared through the lobby to meet discounts at close levels.  Few of my coupons for the restaurant in fact turned out to be broken enough to make me hungry for longer even while ice came out of the machine as slow as a turtle.  Sometimes a horn to some particular vehicle showed up by sound as it indicated a nice girl heading to the small doorway for a long period of time.  I kind of liked that.  When it came to the traffic that occurred in the parking lot, it was this driver's sublimation of patience which transformed the beauty of a dining experience since that lady was polite to us while demonstrating (in casual mood) how to walk along the asphalt, yet Tehachapi's weather in early to mid-spring was telling dad that winter should be with Golden Hills to give us a nice chill.  In addition to my comments on the area, my turkey sandwich had the freshness of thrill to its custom ingredients for which I enjoyed an atmosphere of tomato pictures.  Subway would've been constant in their transition from local sandwiches.  It's guessed I would've reconciled since there was plenty of tea with riboflavin to add so much texture to my drink with riboflavin's complexity of presence and quality, thus when I was returning soft beverages with exclusive ice to my hungry being I was intrinsic for mom's company.  We rolled along with our distinguished events as quick as they could be.  More history was spent with the store which happened to be Subway, so comprehension between me and the workers improved with good judgement on either side.  On both parts, sandwiches were delicious.  I was still quietly upset about the lack of advice on Subway's part in Tehachapi for pastrami which tasted like chunky meat for exhilaration of taste buds in the name of yoga mats and exercising moments.  My favorite was the pickles because they made pastrami that good.

http://www.subway.com/en-us?utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=subway_e&utm_content=national&utm_campaign=sd-alwayson&cid=0:0:0:0:0:0&segment_code=0

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Religious Photo- "Glory Cloud"


"Glory Cloud"
This is something of my religious influences.
It's a glory cloud in my personal abstraction which I made using a Galaxy phone and some weird computer of an unknown type.
I like to show colors in front of an object of what would be behind it in real life.

http://gameuniverso.deviantart.com/art/Glory-Cloud-682421375

Buy a canvas of this work today!

Monday, May 22, 2017

Animal Photo- "Shadow Deer"

"Shadow Deer"
A deer was by our yard's sprinklers and was cooling itself off by the water droplets in curiosity, near a road across from yellow grass of starving thirst.

Sunday, May 21, 2017

Dog Poem- "Touching on Distraction"

Touching on Distraction
Along cracks to the garage,
It’s like owning a mirage;
Thus between hard stars,
Evan sweeps among cars.

That’s why to you I love,
Fitting company like a glove;
Because when I smell from us,
A sausage biscuit is on a bus.

Truth is directed within the parks,
Out of all sorts of forgotten barks;
However real a goal turns out firm,
Both dogs may cuddle with a worm.




*It’s a poem for Evan and Juanita, who live in a nice house with two dogs.  Who knows?  Maybe they’re all dogs, but they’ve moved to a new home where a garage rhymes with a mirage in my dialect, which I’ve picked up from dad.

Saturday, May 20, 2017

Poem- "Thoughtful Illness"

Thoughtful Illness
Her eye to take of long rain in tearing wave up the young land,
For wide safety on theory as options through sport halt demand,
Across these flags of Mediterranean beer with shop purse,
She to the fore as light made from scratch as healthy gift puts curse.

I lean towards sabal palmetto from warm origin,
To render your late money on wine magazines of kin,
Near a barn of happy shoes in astronomical vans at used circles.

There’s a jaco in my southern movie with universal leap,
Really gone through light in creamy articles.

Let’s get these pitas out of my guitar to add one healthy link of roars up.

It’s capital perplexity about high fog to new cooking of sammiches,
With a beast’s eye dialect,
---------------Beyond this shockwave of quail springs, a cold health,
--------------------To hit mom’s ideas of twist ties.
My free behavior!  The exit has been counted, heat is punched.

Californian fruit, staying emergency.
A horse is called itself as a fax, like eastern buffet above thoughts;
Shoulders around jewels are closed off.
Repairs are jiffy because that oriental massage is hunched,
Sworn inside its reflection.
The aged removal is deflected by morals.

North light feels a spencer apart from creative drinks,
When futuristic trolls soar from vanity brochures in mature kinks,:
Artistic moonlight, God in repertory, ripe Limburger, stormy Earth;
Lost taste under firm organics beyond the dire straits of mirth.
This star excels on hook
To figured actions under gone image,
As scientific mouse hasn’t wire afloat to gage clear life,
When second crowd propels
On blushed whim to misplace rough sacrilege.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------What’s the degree to sound?-----------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


We shuffle the garden as our tag now.
Before the day wears off the lead, I’m in elevation to fiery dreams.



---------------:sad eclipse:--------------
------------------------------stars, stars, stars
--------------------------“That’s how they come.”




A finishing rio of uninhabited directions gets one lizard out of speed,
Reflected of placed energy to slow motions at cause levels in need.
Weather’s own rhythm absorbs out reason near corrected shores,
Chains against islands under dead pictures,
Down my wind- such as narrow snow, upon early ingredients.
My dense act: inched visuals, feet addition.
We’re the reversed force of sight…


-------It’s my greeting at repetition point of your frequency.
See?  A dry tool is done here to rule the words.
--------------------Imagine clean evaporation, salt in the mirror!
Difficulty is variable with independence.
Blooming onions, hungry eggs, seasoned flight.


Local ice.
Drink.

Channels are thirsty on TV.

Shattered vocabulary is a part of my mental disorder.
I’m mentally rude with a grown voice.
You likely think materials and feelings are the same.
Poetry is poetry on itself.
Concentric gift spills.
Do you believe there’s a buffalo in the pyramid?
Air has been touched for reality to go on.

Doesn’t wind,
Raise and drop meanings,
Between its shades?

----Novel rite of Easter,----
Choice of rhyme to complete the tragedy.
---------------------A million people are Jesus------------------------------

Washing off goosebumps is the first salute at local nest,
As electricity to my glasses may spark your chest:----Something,
Sporting the glimpse out of piles, to chew-
Burritos with Chinese meat, with few in Arden town at Indian matches.

Stiff on attraction for meals- I’ve known the end in my felt aid.
Kingly offshoot- a motion with the sick feel,
-----------The royal weight of one country animal;
Hello by favor to run!
---------------------Among ideas out of mind to breathe---------

Acceptance of poor target for virtuous natives,
Tender from mountain berries;
Left mist.


Wake up the distinctions!---------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------We disperse as unique,
Breathless aid to hurt start,------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------Appearance of played goal,
Rising cult against us,--------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------Two strangers’ great tribute,
Distress about twin lands,--------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------Such innocent disease,
Dated beauty by sight,------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------Scribes along memes through,
Access over deaths passed,------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------Our invisible dance,
On unknown vibrations,----------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------Embalming within minds,
Dukes at the turquoise moon,--------------------------------------
-------------------------------------Revived warriors down,
Grand love about worn home,-------------------------------------
-------------------------------------Falling music to help,
With enraptured prices,---------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------To set us freedom up,
Lightness from darkness,
To embrace the fixed lock and rock around sweetness.






Here’s a fantastic story:
“A bull took up his pen and flapped his wings,
Only to get thick by told degree,
So he taught wrestling to an ancient leader,
Eating bread with a dance,
Just while few tables became the puzzle of old salt,
This group of dreaming animals,
Mystery as the ultimate object for magical letters,
A cow jumping over dark rights as wife to the rare harvest,
Frogs to have recent myths for moving pressure on vague behavior,
The aged well as out of order since,
Birds making up the scales of the atmosphere once more,
Your farmers to put sources on fumes,
Pretty alarms,
Cowards in a shell,
Our fossils in heavenly influence to broken poems of plain love,
Sadness in reflection against mixed curtains,
A numb intelligence from connecting limbs to bald rain,
Nothing yet,
Dirt at the last hay of presents,
While creators serve as martial illness,
To make our classic portion really divided by this creature,
Some horn with pressure on a song until free.”





What’s a vote for confessions?
I recover the condition of your tangible status by her wrong help,
To manage view on breakable position at this hanging field for cool size,
When open faces are progressive frames under weighed call to fail
it again,
After we control our entrances beyond that handed
quality through share;
It’s coincidental peace that shows up on regretted space
as much, much hot stare!
An uplarged idea upon path as graded itself to passing acumen,
For prior to its mangled hairs,
------------Few of surreal approaches can stop what tries,
Concealing of distinctual shades, --------
Where attentive move goes before flexed yelp.--------



Maybe luck isn’t in the pleasure of a road turned about,
Or becomes this flying point on its seeker when returning grout,
As we run orbs throughout bare worth at windy reflections for slo-mo,
With bittersweeteners away of the fishing verdict on closed bows,
Thus half your action is forgotten print between mild walks,
After my loud tan forever seals a dusty theory on graced chalk.

You might be wondering, “What’s up with this waste on time?”
Well, here’s the beef:
Courage as known upon the height of sass is direction on cheat,
In the day over as soda of gum may reach that honey wheat,
No interest until what is yet to come through my sugaring dew,
A taste of many colors with your river in this belly few,
To save my life from the code of treats on its fill about to jump,
When majority mass can draw the privilege near our growing lump.
Her bag in the clutch has stuffing to reveal beyond orbit,
When a final marine by taunt can remove covered talents,
To groove off angels, into hills- for provocative sorbet,
After truth (on lawns) may cast their phones on a spell (for tough gents);
So it’s the measure on grace with sounds up before aftermath,
To get the synergy out of an episode between weeds,
When- (to hit off protection)- we shift support on rocky path,
On a momentous base of tiny universe near top seeds;
Authority of dull senses will abuse for nicer kinds,
Out itself through still depression during paused session of fun,
In the scope of tears which resumes itself over sunning rinds;
Swimming the lady becomes quite feisty of trashing your sun:
(…….)Thus of vested jewels to withhold memoir she beats the room,
(…….)Demand on free surf as natural input against sandy groom.







The changing dinosaur said, “Chase the field a phoenix may
while turns as red your sky, With a task on giants from
wood to poke eyes through hiss, In hours the birth on
a ray before when to save, These tigers major a find to
light to thumb up pay; Of mine a pitch upon waters as these
to leave rtezp, A light landscape blue over as Greek
leave foot in cave, Nets as luring yet live as to ‘em
prior on way, To enter out this gain to wave after kingdom,
is.”

For background it’s which a line to produce smooth with us ballad,
A fever to get from, it’s as back, while over it takes lid, -:-,
Refilling of tine, it’s vision
In what is off (as my foul gets out from last scenes),
To replace it as schedule,
For inning the spectrum I depend:-Off win
(the angels, between hues of overcast)
fly token in touched,
When I follow… a toy, from its gust
To see it as catched.
--------So it’s switched back of weather------
As flipped on hour, at low.
After spirits take as exclusive their ghosts… When,
pictures grow---------------
------, With twist of goal
Against the multitude of flesh… (… at moan…)
Setting moments in color beyond desires of her wishbone;------.
Thus no cuffs of silk may tear my nose of its smell for…
Our loom,
As living the wall is few yards off, by tendering
Its sore boom, high flavor of pork
As it comes------to be quite soon, in shredded feat,
When those hills reflect gold of functioned seconds until…
I, retreat…

Legal cowboys!  A bright fence is near this dormant
fan.  Personal journey is serving for deflection when I don’t
molde the signal on brisk honey upon these pushed
counters.  So a government’s net of deportation is
a sway to shove on as verified humans empty a
few more fortresses, leaves of candy, to reach
that subtle complexity of homeowner’s defense.
Although sweet promotions of ignition remain to be
obligated through intrinsic addition.  So, what now?
Galaxy is split from fresh entry into Guadalajara just
like Asian snacks across lucky cereal.  Yet a hyena’s burger
goes away on sad areas toward chiefs of apologies in a
plain house of our universal republic.  Upon bakery windows,
sir!  Dirty paintings of relished discounts give a tap on parades
to which starving plumbers finish cables with angled wishes.
Dinosaur Fries where corn had our DNA, one same supper about!
Huevos rancheros between tracks of homemade whistles, sunshine
lobbies over consumer responsibility after rainbows leap to vanish
under streams into Southern California.  Ponies are exaggerating.
Tuesday, thus, I explain, law commends rules, prior to
myself on lamented for beans of great fortune to blanket up
your devilish little cattles.  It’s to find urban riders like
yourselves against a saw’s explosion around the lost
bend of cinematic disposition.  Before elephants attempt at
trading keys for runs up on the holy part of demons, who must
take a necessary on precious sides only to be consumed due to
meal planning.
---------------------------
---------------------------
A solid phantasm.

Living room’s darkness mutts barking fate against,
Confused faith to heavy metal few shampoo threads;
Sleek ambiance if I may just let it pass,
Pajamas wilderness,
Tall mouth, real bottles until stooges die,
Is my body in this word?

History with silence I clap,
Flesh most seeds, Dolce blankets for rivieras;
Bones swell into psyche open steps,
Sneaker gusts out of rings,
So Earth near glove shall pull road,
Reason like dressing?

Hearts repair as to shivers rich creatures ought go stretch,
Strings under wisdom faces belonging masters yet;
Demand chill towards sakes of heated glow rad cherishment,
Over off I stray willows, for spacious lies,
Beyond command stance following charms,
Outside to fit connections?




When a teacher sees imagination, questions bring her away from it.





*I wrote this to my mom, to switch between 2nd- and 3rd- person.


3205 - Milano, Duomo - Giorgio Bonola - Miracolo di Marco Spagnolo (1681) - Foto Giovanni Dall'Orto, 6-Dec-2007-cropped.jpg