this is the news: a strange to do with all strange. some other kiwi in the hissing bliss of a fine day. the spoils of bounty are ludicrous in disarray. a jumble of lumpkin, festooned in prayer-wheels and Tibet. a fountain of open hands. on the brink... on the terrace of counterfeit pantomimes a man of days darning socks and ultraviolet, with quasars for aspic. a drunk pirouette - bereft.
love is the one jungle you know when you're lost, and the last thing that made sense. All day. the spoils of bounty are numinous, always. a trundle of frump-kin, immune to what feels like a guess. " i refuse to sell my daddy's ranch! " if you blink... i might tell you where you lost your mind. an ace of spades a Goldilocks and ultra violence, with ****** for aspirin. a defunct smidgen of less.