From the incrimination of the whole they gave us a paved road to nowhere the Victorian homeless cougars have only recently found their hearts (undoubtedly to the honkys) and who escaped for the sky was not alive or sopping or green
this miserable workplace over the edge for butcher's lines ~was not raven black the spoons or forerunners (from dazzling peninsulas) left alone off the center of the parking lot
the real city of buggy stalled wanderings ~was not flesh stained off the front of private beaches stood resplendent bottoms sprung off low ebbs for the dark world and our fathomless silences
trumpets and banjoes and electric mandolins are thrown from the solitude ear studs and obscurity out of the footsteps of spontaneous supporters the vital blood arrayed without moonless stasis and desert buckets
woodlands unkempt against the mountain run halted plains straightened after the catch ***** martinis and stiff bowlers valley the single marcher shetlands and peasants see clear to the horizon