Friday, April 9, 2010

swizza

bushwick bill or possibly an impostor. the big dipper was out tonight and as always Orion dragging his pelt across the sky. The color is purple, but it wasn't made by a crayon. The slow flight of birds was tracked by the naked eye. Hello are you there? I'm calling on the universal frequency of the solar eclipse. Can you meet me in the desert? Where trees are named after Joshua and instead of cacti I say, "Can I". yes you can. The sardines are packed in a saltwater brine. The truth is held in a an air tight seal that is tamper proof. We poke, we prod, we plod along in the tangential arc of the universe and the sky. A graphing calculator is about the same as the gypsy grifter or should we call it the gangster prankster? those we days long gone bye. those were they days when we would wave just hello and goodbye. The night stirs with the wings of mayflies. The lawn has been turned into a hanger of six legged creatures taking to flight. Dear Mayfly, please don't fly into this house, though the light is irresistible, but I don't want you to die on the confines of the house. A purple tear, a drop of grape drink, and Kool-Aid man said, "oh yeah" and then crashed through the brick walls of the solitude of my mind. An irrefutable truth that was held solemn on our hearts...Why do you have to be so picky and micromanage the micro loans I give you? she so crazy, but she admits it. She was the sad protector collector, like having the Millenium Falcon as a carrying case. These germs will die one day and then we'll be better soon. All of us, unlike the hookworms of our younger days.

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