paste! the fly buzzing behind the miniblinds becomes a hydroelectric dam for the masses.

the big white box is filled with scraps of black corduroy, red magnets and fresh thyme.

kings and queens of neglected u-shaped coves break out the vintage in the middle of the night for reasons unconsidered.

it tends to go on like this for about 20 seconds until the next skin folds back neatly with a conspicuous crease.

there really is no such thing as a permanent character trait. you can only be who you are for awhile and beyond awhile becomes a forced experience like swimming on a flooded front lawn.

the tangles in the child's hair feel completely natural and when the comb flys through the air the tangles panic without coordination to make it even more obvious that their life will end soon.

guess for the pipes before you use that shovel. pretty caution comes from the arrhythmia of sampling, and not encouraging, forgetting.
ever dumbening charcoal and adipose fins, fiber bites black. rub back the strays, fining to define.

masking plastic, then teeth spit white powder. measure. square. line. clamping dampen vibrations.

the rash decisions -- too fast. the lysis too slow. the middle path: filled with middle-aged white people, disproportionately. so which, so who, is not
what's it to you?
who go