Friday, August 17, 2007
Earthquakes Take Time Away From Short Moments
Like gloved halogen, bulbs shoot forth from blue dirt gel in Zulu nighttime. We aftershock into blankets, our sheets are filled with crepe text, angled batter into gorgeous mounds of decrepit calligraphy. Personal pain on a video film screen redacts our faith into markings of a newly chained sound on scores-Earth. Trading some thrown-for, mild with aromatic tastes, Robert dances a diagetic, grim sound. Cancers pinstripes expand into each band of skin and fledge out their bruises, wanting a massage over a larger, more significant touch. Fledgling, uniform wants become tragically like malnourished shapes instead of your mission, quasi-sincere dread overcoming my star's crotch. His crotch smokes every night into a breath of surrounding chiaroscuro crotch. Please, glove that thing before everything is drenched. Hang with other people, interacting can unstring you before you are unstrung at my 30th house arrest; the fuzz accumulating outside the crib, I take four moments to collect my stuff. Urge is too big to urge her in gorging parallels and this ray is so similar to that tangential ray, so I am returning the stamps to general kids. Stave off necks, butter gowning pteradactyl necks in prehistoric flight 9-11/Z. I wish I stopped to consider again that day of helmets in squashed city bricks, places newly unrecognizable, frocked and sludged for white clouds of rain and discussion juice, juice bearded in Oriental robes. Galaxies underbite, must gradually be nulled and trained, that cheddar might gather strength from eternal lotteries, putting the broom horn, that utter song in pop symbols just beyond me; it just bootchecks and recoils forever into irrelevence, caprice sliding into driveways of pain in millenia, preferring one wooded reality. Epic beard, overcoming all other shit in every facial phase. Sheer blanket flags flying upstairs at noon at the proudest den of imaginable wolves.