Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Swedish Wedding Conundrum
Sweat-chiseled, crank the hun, swear-word dreams of dark politics, sunken cake of arced dream-boat dreams. My dino, my elephant, my prehistoric punch-valve, inordinately sweaty and creased to smithereens. My honest quote is, "Let several dogs bequeath more truth and consequence and tribal dogs' breaths of pack-dogs, yipping." Take me into the cloud ballgame and take Ermi there, to swaddle in Henry. Spacestation truce. Elliptoid troubles. Hover over Atlanta, strain those digital ears to the flotsam headspace zooming by. Make the crisp air Judaic in cooldown winds of Judean Judaica.