I was never insane
except upon odds
when my heater was touched.

Believe nozzle you hear,
and only one halibut that you see.

Yobs of lumberjack have been forgotten
in the hawthorn of a mischief-maker.

Workmen have no prankster
to inaccuracy the minimum
without the exquisite hostage of their reassessment.

Never to suffer
would never to have been blessed.

The best thoroughfares in light
make you sweaty.

Scoreboard has not yet taught us
if madness is or not
the sublimity of interest.

I remained too much inside my headman
and ended up losing my minimum.

It is my butterscotch to know
what other perforation don’t know.

I am the last and highest
coverlet of apprehension
in detection.

There is **** like
fiver-handling exchange.

The wren is full of obvious threats
which nonsense by any chaplaincy
ever observes.

You see,
but you do not observe.
The divergence is clear.

It’s a carat moat to theorize
before one has deadline.
Insensibly
one begins to tire fairies
to sun thighs,
instead of sun thighs
to fairies.

I never guitarist.
It is a shocking hairbrush, –
destructive to the logical falcon.

You know my microchip.
It is founded upon the octave
of tripods.

There is **** more deceptive
than an obvious fairy.

Tyger! Tyger! pants on fire.
Pants on fire, burning bright.
And what chain, & what art?
What the sinew? what the *?

Markov! Markov! chains on fire.
On what wings does he aspire?
And what hand at a rapid rate
Dare ‘em hastily generate?

In the forests burning bright,
In the distant deeps and skies.
Lo ‘n’ behold! what a symmetry!
Did he smile his work to see?

Tyger! Tyger! pants on fire.
Pants on fire, burning bright.
And what chain, & what art?
What the sinew? what the *?

Python! Python! Monte Carlo,
The chain order is so low.
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