fine, here we go,
and i hate my other
writers. thought to
words i wouldn't
have chosen; thoughts
i wouldn't have thought.
inferiority, and this drunken
stupor caused of imbibing
far too much noise. but
the noise is there, and constant
and constant and repetitious
fallacy spewed forth. accepted
as accepted, and there's the uniques'
flaw.
                      (no one needs you but Q)