Part one
She almost had me. “Four months and you’ll be free”, she said. A new independence day; the ultimate survivor nut that you can never catch, that keeps running into the wrong cliff. You sniffle and snort. “Hurry” she says, you only have so much time, before you die. “Just die” she says. You could freeze to death, and nothing matters, you’re ALIVE. See the ice age coming?
Envy just Look at her, the Lion for the wolf that just orders more junk. Acme is now online. Try again, and again, and again, a road runner you can never catch because you have never left.
Can you see the ne that wants to grow, the Cartesian coordinator within the trifles with springs? The harmony with the IF? Just order me, a life extension with two feet, and a hand that overlays them?
So, the little girl pees in the floor again. Just a tint of fear, and envy knows what to do, and provides relieve, the trifles that are not blow-torched before the flight. Everything seems fine, but all of a sudden a stranger appears in the sky, and a crash is sensed.
A quick jump up to push the fat lady aside, shove a banana in the cripple’s ear, and get out TO HELP OTHERS, but as the beast crashes, the fat lady never sings. You didn’t hit her hard enough!
Trinity screams in the wet wall, “You have to”.
No, no, it just doesn’t feel right. I can’t leave him behind. Something is wrong.
The ne in the o with weekly confection?
Four funny stones, buried in blue muck.
Dig, dig, dropping fast into the rabbit hole, only to find the cipher is gone, and thrown his phone into the trash can for recycling.
The opera continues as the dogs change form.
Planting their destructive devices on timers for the race ahead for the error, error.
The fifth element becomes purple haze.
The trifles jump and scream.
Part two
There is no spoon. The well in the vowels is just a measurement for years in recall.
An O between the IF and why for the greatest idiot in the world?
The world seems real, good noodles.
The shaft is full of water. Up we go, got to have more dead body.
The Bush is shaking, burning, hiding.
The harp in the o. Prahu.
Terminator 3 with one outrigger. Sail away.
Is everything backwards? 23 from 32 is 9 or 11?
The matrix has you.
You have to see it with your OWN EYES.
That really was piss. Drink up.
You can loose 26 pounds in the next chapter.
Part three
One flow over the cuckoo’s nest.
That’s it. She doesn’t like the I or the O.
She purrs away all day.
Joy and love are one. Purrrple.
My first acting role was Art Linkletter interviewing kids.
I met a girl in Colorado in a hotel who knew Electric Light Orchestra well.
I didn’t have my stuff, so I went home to get it.
My transmission went out in St. Louis on the way back.
I didn’t get back to Colorado until years later.
I originally worked for a brick layer, who was a vegetarian about the size of a tree.
He could crush you with his pinky finger.
Part four
Boy, do I dread tomorrow. No?
Boy, can he sing. Here come the dogs.
Snicker? Snirk? Sneer?
Water for the melons.
A dark cross that builds hooks.
The drear in the fear that is jerked off the ledge and dead to save its Trinity.
The head spins around only once you have left.
A dead body waits to take its place.
Fresh blood. Umm, good steak.
Give me the codes to Zion. No. Take Morpheus instead.
Give me my nak in the sas.
Boy, can she sing for the mem.
Split the day into four parts and you just have 6666 with no beginning or end.
Are the four beasts real? Do you see blood? The do in the liberator?
The fire in the carburetor?
Chase the nut and you freeze.
Earth is becoming the trifle, the black cat that is seen as the omen.
A nemo that sinks in the sea.
Get the weights on, we’re going into the sphere. Chicken pocs.
Drive in vaccines to make you sick and free laboatames.
That’s enough for one dame.
The fine lines keep appearing. The thickening.
All I see are brunettes and blondes.
No one knows what to do with the red head.
Her talent is endless.
She almost had me at the end of a barrel.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

0 comments:
Post a Comment