A presence
presenting
a continuous torment
torturing
incessantly
until, even with cessation
only a tenuous self
is present
leaving only the resin

The maniacal
manifestation
is an infestation
festering around in my head
Its existence,
a creation
created at inception,
hacking my brain
Forever a trap
creating a
maniac

Acrimonious
to all mankind
Not acting
like a man
Not one word
that's kind
Committing crimes
and getting oneself
committed
A deviation
creating a deviant
Shifted values
due to a devalued
self

An esoteric
essence
seemingly sentenced
on this journey
by judge and jury,
not by one's peers
because the many
not able
to peer
into this individuality
The duplicity
of duality
that is my reality

Challenging myself
to a dual
One in which
I both
win and lose
But in the end
not breaking even
or coming out ahead
Always ending
further back
instead

Its back breaking
and always aching
Pain from which
not capable of
faking
Effort I’m taking
Of myself making
Time for a new king
For kinsmanship
is aloof
And this man’s ship
has sailed away
Sipping a port
at a shipping port
And yet
slipping away

Deeper still
In the depth
of still water
Sinking
into the abyss
Lost and gone
But not missed
Is this the end
of our fable?
Or will our “hero”
enable himself
and in the end
be able
Deciding who to be?
Cain or Abel?
For the hurricane
is hurrying along
Its aim always the same
Constant pain
A payment he feels
for the displaced
placement
which just in case
is placed
same place
he went

Ink in the face
A disgrace
When suddenly
encased in his brain
are racing thoughts
of a plan
he’s ace’n

A label of insanity
given by those
who claim sanity
when the reality
is their thoughts are free
and optimize
a sanitized
and homogenized
batter
And in the end
it doesn’t matter

Offering suggestions
in which they
feel threatened
Pathways congested
and protested
Testing them
Even worse,
bested
A problem beset
upon them
Time to steady
the flock
Roll n’ Rock
Inoculations we’re getting
Start the injections

“It’s been an honor”
Mounting my Lipizzaner
A disarmer
A charmer
The armor
‘mi amor’
Leaving me
wanting more
But as they keep score
the task is daunting
A life that’s haunting
with such splendid decor
-
Yet, can’t take any more
Their taunting
is leaving me sore
So to the atmosphere
I open that door
and flying up above
I soar

Forever more
Feel pain no more...

"A leisurely breakfast" their mother would admonish, "aids digestion and builds strong bones..." so what with the imposed inactivity every morning, boredom broken only by Sockeye the family Spaniel, whose want of table manners coincided very conveniently with mealtimes... as he paced restlessly under the table, slobbering indiscriminately in his daily scramble to devour every dangling morsel before supply and demand shut up shop for the night and went home, far tastier... he gobbled down the latest offering of egg white, than the remnants of his own dietary allowance, they just had to get the timing right that was all, or risk loosing a finger, or gaining one depending upon who was doing the dangling, or who was doing the gobbling... he gave an indignant sneeze, not so much a hint but more of a... 'what's with the pepper malarky...'  So that it was only with a good deal of snappy hand coordination, lengthy digestion and sturdy bone building that Rocky was finally able to extricate himself from the table and make the most of what little time remained until lunchtime, meagre time indeed for the Rocky's of this world to hang around with their dogs, leaving their little sisters to help mums do, whatever it was that girls usually did when they should have scooted out of the kitchen faster, when it would have been all so much simpler just to grab a handful of biscuits instead...  Meanwhile, laying in wait in the room above, flat out upon the bedroom counterpane, having recently had their insides stuffed to bursting with a full English breakfast's worth of beach and holiday apparal... and that was just the luggage.    

     The contents of which, up until a week last washday had been snoozing fitfully behind 'Do Not Disturb' signs, cautiously peeping out from the gloomier, more remote recesses of the bedroom dresser, or carefully concealed in cupboards and closets... and being in every other respect by no means readily accessible to public scrutiny of any kind... had been left to their own devices some twelve months earlier with a clear understanding to skip bath nights from that moment on and henceforth immerse themselves in the heady, camphorated pungency of mothball, vowing once and for all never to darken portmanteau lids again... but now, after many hours of arduous laundering and de-fumigation... were now being squeezed and unceremoniously shoe-horned into what had recently become nothing short of an overcrowded sanctuary for the dispossessed.  
              
     Meanwhile, all the luggage asked from life other than be detained under section four of the Mental Health Act, 1983 and be found cosy padded accommodation elsewhere... was to have their interiors vacated, their tranquility reinstated... and with a questionable wink from a dodgy Customs official, have their travel permits invalidated... irrevocably, for despite throwing a double six for a spot of well earned convalescence back on top of the wardrobe some twelve months ago, basking in the shade of a warm Summer Sun, striking up the occasional conversation with the floral decor, third bloom from the left currently answering to the name of Petunia, the still over extended luggage, seemingly with little hope of R & R this side of the letter Q, faced the perennial disquiet of vacational therapy, of being knelt on, sat and bounced upon and be specifically manhandled in ways that matching sets of co-ordinated luggage should not...
                                        
     Tina could be heard quite distinctly in the next street concerning her husbands lack of competence, whilst Red it appeared had become just as outspoken as his wife in that particular direction... as the local self appointed busybody, who lived well within earshot of the address in question would bear witness to as she put feverish pen to paper, writing to what had become a regular... and some would say hot bed of intrigue in the local tabloid concerning how vociferous the once tranquil neighbourhood had become of recent and how certain undesirable elements within the community were to be heard carrying on alarmingly at all hours, day and night... and as she diligently weighed her civic duty against simple household economics as to whether to send this latest block busting eye opener by first or second class post, their parents could now be heard broadcasting, if anything to a wider listening audience than the previous newsflash, some of the more sensational episodes of the previous twenty-four hours as to who was pulling whose suitcase zipper now... although in which direction it should be pulled, they both agreed, wasn't for public disclosure at that time... vowing to draw blood well before the day was out, as three lacerated fingers would later testify and that it was only because of the children that they were going at all... but God willing, they would be setting off very shortly with rosy smiles on their faces for the sole benefit of the neighbours, even if it killed them. 

     Spurred to fever pitch  by this latest 'stop-the-press' newsflash, the same public spirited busybody now threw herself wholeheartedly into further award winning journalism and for the second time that morning took to pen and paper, only now directed to the gossip column in the local Parish Gazette, followed by grievous lamentations of impending bloodshed to the incumbent Chief Constable as to how they'd all be murdered in their beds ere long before nightfall.

     By devouring his water bowl, thereby dispensing with the need for it to be washed and by its abrupt and mysterious absence, disposing of all further incriminating evidence as to where the abundant supply of liquid, now surging copiously across the kitchen floor had sprung from... the flash-flood was hastily making its own getaway beneath the kitchen units, leaving Sockeye to his own devices to carry the can on his own, ankle deep in what up until earlier that morning had been sloshing around quite contentedly in Eccup reservoir.

      Having inadvertently released the handbrake in a boyish gesture of bravado, thereby placing himself in sole charge of a runaway vehicle, Sockeye it appeared was not the only member of the Salmon family to have dropped himself right in it that day as Rocky, having unwittingly placed the following ten years pocket money well out of reach and back into the pockets of his parents dwindling resources, had to a far greater extent nominated himself for the same Earth moving experience as the one his mum would shortly be giving Sockeye...

      Having just been granted licence to do whatsoever it pleased, the vehicle began its leisurely rearwards perambulation down the long garden driveway and by way of small thanks for its new found independence took Rocky along for the ride where due to a certain lack of stature on Rocky's part, at no point had he ever been in the slightest position to influence the Holiday threatening train of events which now engulfed him, never thinking to reapply the handbrake... that would be too easy, he perched on the edge of the seat clutching the steering wheel and stretched out his sturdy little legs in an heroic, but futile attempt to reach the pedals as the family car, which up until any second now had been his fathers pride and joy, pitched backwards at what seemed to Rocky, breakneck speed and directly into a very severe and unforgiving brick wall.

     Almost missing this latest round of entertainment above that of her parents most recent exchange, River accompanied by Sockeye scampered outdoors and slap into what could only be described as the most fun she'd had all year as an unsuspecting "what was that noise" muscled its way through the open bedroom window and fell flat on its face in the garden below and which, if that morning to date was anything to go by, then the neighbourhood would soon be tuning in to the latest Salmon family's 'hot-off-the-press' breaking news bulletin.

     Opening her mouth River hesitated as she fine-tuned the speech centres of her young and delicate synapse into full vocal alignment, then adjusting shutter speed from f8 to automatic she closed her mouth... then opened it once again and informed her brother that if the tip of dads size 9 was an Olympic gold, then Rocky would be sure to take first in the 110 metre hurdling event with 'team GB...' and could she have his autograph... with those words of solid encouragement rattling around his ears like the last biscuit in an otherwise empty tin box, River went skipping back into the house to announce the latest newsflash of her parents next financial happening... which she felt certain would prompt further rounds of thought provoking front page journalism.

     A steady two hours drive away, over on the east coast, the inhabitants of a sleepy fishing community were gainfully employed, pretty much as any other, going about their daily business, one such denizen... a baby crustacean, currently marooned by the tide had taken up temporary accommodation in a beachfront rock-pool property of certain distinction, was as yet unaware of a completely different and obscure set of circumstances that would shortly be rearing his slobbering jowls and bring all four paws, the size of dinner plates, crashing down upon the unsuspecting seashore fauna... was determined while she waited to catch the next high tide home, that until such time that the right wave rolled along, would potter about in the little rock-pool, perhaps indulge herself in a leisurely bathe... and catch up on a spot of therapeutic knitting.

     So, placing the days events since breakfast into perspective...  [i]  the vehicle indemnity provider, henceforth to be named 'the party of the first part', who currently weren't cognisant of an impending claim to date, would shortly be laying eggs attempting to squirm out of all liability, due to  [ii]  the automobile, driven by a minor, fortunately for Salmon senior on private land and henceforth, the aforementioned to be called 'the third party, to the party of the second part...' which urgently needed rigorous cosmetic attention to the rear tail light cluster and surrounding bodywork so as to maintain a favourable resale mark-up price.  [iii]  Having been dragged kicking and screaming from the top of the wardrobe, the luggage had rapidly developed cold feet and cried sudden illness in the family, but were being taken to the Wake anyway.  [iv]  Wrapped around the hot water cylinder since the previous Summer, the various sundry items of holiday apparel stood united, resolute as a Union Picket line not be seen dead looking as though they'd never so much as seen the bottom of a flat-iron.  [v]  Both Red and his wife, Tina, despite wearing the same anaemic smile as the one show to the neighbours as they departed, travelling counter clockwise along the crescent so as not to unduly advertise their recent misadventure with the garage wall, were only going for the sake of the children, whilst  [vi]  River and her errant brother didn't want to go anyway dismayed at leaving the television set behind, were already missing their favourite programs, which only really left  [vii]  'mans-best-friend' who, when he wasn't actually hanging over the front seat giving dad big sloppy licks as though... 'are we nearly there yet' or perhaps... 'I need to stop and spend a penny... or you'll all know about it if you don't,' was more than content to be taking up the majority of the rear seating arrangements and with a delinquent wag of his tail, was deliriously happy to be wherever his family were.**

                                                        ­                             ...   ...   ...

a work in progress.                                                        ­                                                                 ­  1862

as the PROPHETS of profits, WE lead and WE’re fair
while WE’re living the life of the poor BILLIONAIRE
– silver yachts, pearly castles, cash (plenty to spare) –
with the world on OUR backs... ah! the burdens WE bear!

being HAVES (not the have-nots) as nature decrees
means WE’re certainly the better (they’re vermin on ******).
if they pray for a lift in their dark fantasies,
WE just kick ’em downstairs, get ’em off of their knees.

yes, WE offer great jobs (much too busy OURSELVES!)
for maintaining the toilets, restacking the shelves,
and WE teach ’em to fear god and play with the elves,
thus dispelling ideas where the dark demon delves.

though they build mighty bridges, twin towers and more,
peddle pizzas and popcorn, sell guns door-to-door,
still they gotta have BOSSES to tell ’em the score
else WE’d never be needed, WE’d thrive nevermore.

when OUR profits are plunging, they do their part too
for they dine on the dole! yes, no hullabaloo!
soon OUR fortunes  redouble, rebound and accrue –
since WE fare well without ’em, WE bid ’em adieu.

’stead of wishing for welfare and standing in queues
or parading with pickets (look! holes in their shoes!),
they’d be better off scabbing to save union dues.
while WE whistle and warble, they’re singing the blues.

whether heroes or hoboes, like spiders and lice
they just crawl all around us in life’s paradise,
but WE’re patient, big hearted and oft sacrifice,
spewing charity, kindness (though each has its price).

if they’re beaten or punctured or suffer assault,
are unhealthy or crippled or walk with a halt,
or ******* or helpless, it’s all their own fault –
just like US they should worship the DOLLAR exalt’!

protesters and loud mouths, you’ll find ’em aplenty
some older, some younger, the worst not yet twenty.
they’re shameless and brazen (unwashed, soiled and scenty)
impugning the prestige of brave COGNOSCENTI.

if they’ve got clashing colors (or shades in between)
or opposing beliefs in the hidden unseen,
well, WE’ll always exploit it, deflecting their spleen,
for with god on each side, would WE dare intervene?

WE maintain many methods to keep ’em in chains –
daily rags and the tube spin OUR circus campaigns:
“to pretend you’ve a voice”, an announcement explains,
“you can vote and decide on which ONE of US reigns”.

OUR policemen protect US, they stay on the ball
(they arrest ’em, no questions per law’s protocol,
and then jam ’em in jail with their backs to the wall) –
if you’ve lucre for lawyers there’s justice for all.

down the ROYAL road of justice WE march all alone
– WE condemn their defiance, set ways to atone –
since WE’re sinless, unsullied, WE cast the first stone
(while WE cloak REGAL fetor with eau de cologne).

politicians, bald bankers, grand idols galore,
attend meetings, fete banquets in which they explore
how to rid US of rodents (the weak and the poor) –
well, just round up the riff-raff, dispatch ’em to war!

ah! OUR wars are, well, just...... just a thing of the past
........... and the present............... and future... WE sure make them last!
if they frown as they gaze (Armageddon!) aghast,
then WE smile back with pleasure, OUR treasures amassed.

useless ranting and raving (in rags, when they’re clad),
leads to losing their teeth (my! their gums are... egad!).
WE’re unselfish, indulgent, WE’d never be mad
if they drowned in the sounds of themselves feeling sad.

as the paupers are princes in midnight’s domain,
they have pipe dreams to lose, certainly nothing to gain
if they’re hoping OUR fortunes will wither and wane –
for “WE’re here by god’s will” as WE often explain.

yes, they wish to be US, with OUR wisdom and grace,
keeping up with ol’ CROESUS, maintaining the pace.  
but perverseness or rancor? they’ll see not a trace –
for WE hold ’em at bay with a fist in the face.

WE’re la CRÈME de la CRÈME, yes! the proud UPPER CRUST,
and OUR clothes are the finest, OUR hair never mussed –
WE imbue ’em with piety, duty and trust
and they’re fed bread and water (if feed ’em WE must).

but they’re thieving, aggrieved, want a piece of OUR PIE
and request WE endure ’em, see EYE to black eye.
since they live in OUR land where OUR strict rules apply,
they must feast on the crumbs that We cast to the sty.

though OUR largesse and bounty WE don’t mean to flaunt,
yet the pittance WE pay ’em they surely can vaunt –
salty peanuts and pretzels (what more could they want?)
thereby keeping their kiddies so healthily gaunt.

yes, there’s room for the rabble (the back of the bus)
’cause WE treat ’em like equals, so what’s all the fuss?
all can rise to the top (yes! it’s always been thus),
to the suites in OUR penthouse (to sweep up and dust).

while OUR CHILDREN have tutors, the finest of schools
(being bred for the forefront, THEY’re nobody’s fools),
their own school of hard knocks teaches: “follow the rules”,
building brawn ’stead of brains and broad backs strong as mules’.

and to keep ’em in line (to ensure WE prevail)
WE now monitor phone calls and read all their mail
(civil rights? what a notion! at best a detail!)
and if worse comes to worst...... well...... guantanamo jail!

WE’ve OUR quandaries and questions and headaches full blown
(like deciding design and decor of OUR throne...
whether diamonds or rubies... to gemstones WE’re prone) .
when WE deign to appease ’em, WE chuck ’em a bone.

now you know all OUR problems, OUR pains and travails
– like preparing foreclosures, evictions  and sales –
but WE’ve no need for worries or gnawed fingernails,
’cause WE’re sailing OUR yachts through tempestuous gales
(with them bailing OUR banks when OUR stock market fails)
sipping daiquiri sours, champagnes, ginger ales.
:-)

The church field trip led to the most beautiful presence,
The elegance protrude by the sweet scent.

I dared not moved so hastily,
I dared not the red!

Glanced by the peripheral eye lids,
The red beckoned the thumping beats within my chest!

A visual decor permeates from the illuminating of the perfect circle,
And my inner most demon want to ravage it!

I wanted to devour every essense of the crescent,
Becoming one with red.

I slightly move forward so no eyes may pry onto my movement,
Like an orchestra moved to one trumpet to a violin scurry along.

Finally came side by side of the precious glimmer of the curves,
And moved my hand to palm the red's grace on the tilt of it's end.

I open wide to cusp my mouth to bite deep into it's brilliance,
In my teeth feeling the liquid and crunchy of it's body!

Sour taste of salt expand a vigor of darkness cover my mouth,
I look at the apple's plate beneath me read " Ida Red!"

Water upon my eyes,
No longer can chew any further,
I simply shallowed the chunk in my throat!  

"Your elegance beckon me red, but in the end, you have seduced me to bitterness!"

I dared, Idared, ida red!

We sat pow-wow-style
exchanging our war stories,
admiring the ****-filled room
full of swirling nicotine-smoke.

We joked with each other,
wondered about
loose lips sinking ships
& figured it wasn't these types
that sunk such vessels,
these ones ruined lives.

Waifs & wisps floated
miraculously about
while cheap perfume &
broken English
wafted our senses.

Desperate dripping
honeycomb-eyes
searched for
potential customers,
rot gut whiskies flowed
& disappeared to ease
the ******-tensions.

Everyone was there
to either ****
or to get drunk
'cause the
decor & atmosphere
literally ******.

half a cup of
a two toned muse
yeilds a quarter of
a sultry pair of cat eyes
& a tragic obsession
with princess serenity
stirred in with a dash of inconsistencies
and every teenage boys dream
under the heat of a mistress gaze
correcting grammar and errors
mixed in with your matching blacks,
& a quarter dozen
of féline decor
with shoes to complement
toss in a diamond ring
throughly wrapped around
your annulus finger &
indulge it with
strange behavior then
top it off with a silky whip
to accommodate
the quenching fluid of
a ******* *****

I couldn't even look you in the eyes
you left without a goodbye
you were gone without warning
I woke up to an empty house that morning
And I am still in mourning
I miss your snoring
you left so many loose ends
with no way to make amends
the worst part of it all
is that you treated me like a doll
and when you didn't want to play with me anymore
you put me back on the shelf and ignored me like a piece of decor
I was the best piece of decor you even had
So I have stopped being sad
And started being grateful
because next time they won't leave without a goodbye

When its emerald eye glimmers in the shadow of the dusty shelf above
I pause,
I sense a presense.

It is not unlike me to attribute human characteristics to inanimate objects.
Give them names and nicknames and quirky character traits based on how their forms bend.

In the flickering lights of a broke wicken sanctuary though, I do not do it out of habit.

I feel it and stare it back down and see my own reflection in the cracked gems that once were a soul.

A gaudy skull.

The kind you see in home video Indiana Jones tributes,
with hats stolen from someone’s parents,
and jackets stolen from someone else’s elder siblings,
and ketchup for blood.

The kind your quirky local manic pixie dream girl uses to hold incense.

The kind I’m about to waste my money on because I’m an adult now and I can use my millennial minimum wage however I want.

I do not become aware of the possessed nature of my new buddy until I take it back home and hear it snicker in the middle of the night.

I know it is the skull, for my roommate is not one to snicker.

(He chuckles when he’s hiding an opinion and has a villainous laugh when it’s coming from a place of sincerity, but that’s beside the point)

I know it’s laughing at me.
I know this for a fact.

It takes me three more nights to call it out on it because I’ve never been confronted with the issue of standing up to a haunted antique I took home from a secondhand shop, possibly owned by satan’s offspring.
But I’m twenty-one years old and still experiencing some firsts, I suppose.

The gaudy skull is exceptionally snarky.
In a way none of my named plants ever were.
Not even Gerard.

He comes for me for the garbage on the floor and the dust on the windowsill on which he’s propped up, and then later for my poor taste in chore-doing music.

I never ask for its name because I know for a fact he’ll make a game out of it
and I am not in the mood for entertaining ghosts.

I come to realise it all on my own a couple of weeks later.
Once the snark starts to wear off,
and domesticity settles in,
and shared quiet becomes comforting,
despite the circumstances.

It is Judas.

I know this for a fact.

You do not understand the extent to which I am certain that it is Judas.
I have never been so aware of someone’s origins in my entire life.
I bought this creepy item and it is now in my room and I’m developing a weird attachment to it and maybe occasionally use it as a paper-weight and it is Judas.

I feel it in my heart and know it inside of my skull that might be standing on someone else’s touchscreen windowsill
two thousand years in the future,
jade stones for eyes even though I specifically requested amber,
but you get ****** over by bureaucracy even after death.

How do I know it is Judas?

Because I feel him stare at me like he wants to kiss me late at night and sense him plotting my betrayal early morning.

I know it is that, for a fact, because I’ve felt this exact sensation before.

My **** edgy room decor is Judas.

I try to get him to admit it himself by talking of past lovers and reading aloud the surprising number of Jesus metaphor poems I have in my room.
I hate Jesus metaphors, but I do it for that sweet sensation of seeing someone trying to dodge the inevitable once it’s coming at them like a mule through Rome piloted by the son of god.

I know he’ll cave eventually and tell me
and I know it’ll be the same caliber of glorious news as Jesus coming out of his own cave of burial,
resurrected and preaching winning.
I know I’ll win.

And I think to myself that maybe I am in the mood to entertain and just haven’t found the right outlet yet.
Maybe history’s most infamous apostle is It.
The original sinner and the original rebel.

(I’m aware it’s technically Cain, the jealousy-ridden son of Adam and Eve, but I only ever count the gays)

Judas and I have bonded.

And I can tell he’s on the verge of telling me his dark and twisted backstory. Again, I have felt this sensation before.

And when it happens, we can talk
about what it’s like being demonised by the one you love
and being the odd one out in your devotee friend group, even though you eat bread and drink wine and worship metaphor just like them.
And how patriarchal institutions distort history to pedal the same tired spiel of everything having a place and everything being there for a reason.

But we both know that isn’t true
because neither of us feel like part of god’s plan or created in anyone’s image.

And we can listen to sad music about wanting to kiss the wrong people together.

And that’s all I ever wanted from a friendship.

I search for some decor
to pretty up my house
A headboard, some dead boards
or maybe a couch?

The said so to do it
on public TV
my kitchens not pretty
as pretty as can be

But what will the neighbors
think of my design?
they'll report to the magazine
that it's beautiful and sublime!

Some ship lap, some sconces
all wrapped in a bow
i will trend till tomorrow
then die all alone

Rip it all down
Says Chip and Joanna
They are more popular
Than Hanna Montanna

They live on a ranch
an take millions to make
a spectacular suprise
for a couple to take

We all laugh an cheer
at Chip's child like antics
Which makes great TV
as Joanna gets Frantic!

Do Chip and Joanna really
care about you?
As long as the station
gets ten million views

They tell us to fix it
even though it's not broken
go shop till you drop
and spend every token

Buy that cool sign
made from cheap yellow plastic
The richer get richer
but, our wall looks fantastic!

Do not give in
to the big corporate greed
there are sick, hungry people
and starving mouths to feed

so every cent spent
on the corporate wealth
helps the richer get richer
and we go to stealth

Wake up and see vanity
is causing distress
don't give in to pressure
of this corporate mess!

In the USA. Untitled, And they have been communicating
with their clothes teaching the fables of the old heroes in
Europe, in general, the pink ones and their lips, the King
Robert Oppenheimer and Einstein in their socks with their mothers
or they stayed when they saw the slaves of Life born from the bad
state of education.
It was the music of Babylon, the messenger who had heard
about alchemy, and weapons, T to run and then to China
began to the cities on the list, the wars were his mother,
and the light at noon, and the network. The fear of the girl to the human eye, seems to be the song of the night;
Better than an American from the top of the water,
Or the black color is ****, warm, beautiful,
American football in Europe and legs, and really died.
Europe and Asia will follow the gray stars,
and they will burn in the blood.
Gold and bronze to Italy and Juan. Dogs are going
to change the history of the military;
African border The Greek countryside is black, green.
Queen of South Yorkshire Thomas lives in the shape
of a donkey; Women have lost celestial parts. And Christians
have the heart to find food in July.
I will warm the garden with clear graphic radios.
Children's fingers of the UV glass moon photography
The game is easy for your children due to the witchcraft
of the devil. Friends of pleasure brown star music
of Jews and Christians. The best way to a man of peace,
the song of the beast out of the luck of the robot, Igor's
Science plays the stage of rock in the opening oboe solo
to start the game.
Thinking of rich colors; Subscribe to Belle Canada;
The game of games is to remember ***** dirt,
the destruction of German poets;
Park instead of pure crazy secret life.
But the offer of hot coffee kills photos
and an angry museum in Virginia Basic
Italian love, you have paid attention
to your security tools. If the decorations
on the leg of the leg have been good, it will work well.
I have to do it forever and it ends in the window,
and the windows are in the memory.
The USA dresses at a table and talks about vitamins in Europe.

I was happy with the socks, the pink lips and, in general,
the mother of King Robert Einstein; With modern life
there is a cycle of the lyrics of Barbie's song.
Do not listen to the parts, you start to find alchemy,
The Chinese of civilians, the angels of the fort
and the reforms of the Medes. For your pain, cause or prophet Marco.
In the manger, Thomas understands the images from the north.
Order of the undulatory nature of the temple girls,
read the complementary Oriental versions of the young black
stripper's memoirs with angel Bettie's movement;
Paul, Bob started reading the hidden light in cash.
The parts of Satan Lion and the predators
of the mountain top are very dear to convert the sister
of the club into a kind of machine inclined laiyara
By strippers we serve magical dolphin dragon eggs.
Stop bleeding because of the smell of paradise.
Ullamcorper language problems. But it is the
vital force of the diet that you have seen the game.
when the dogs smoke; Those who love you call the police.
This is Laura, and fire, it's easy to describe
the sophisticated corners of your corner.
In order to last hours, but the nature of the long;
You will have a great woman, she will bring you
the yellow sports shoes for adults, or three dead
and legs of Europe and American football in Europe
and Asia will follow the stars that breathe blood,
air, gold, Jean, Italy, history of War, conversion,
chain, Greek future, Greek poet, queen of the
southern form. Donkey who lives Thomas of York,
Mrs. Vedas went 100 times to Vedas [Italian dog],
and brewery Christ and British car Ooreşgeriya
Şoreşa, it is an obvious matter with the 400 and
the common cattle of Russia,    you are like my
sister and a robot,      They did not regard them as
robots, but helped other countries with prostitutes
in that country, Zia Kunj Vesora. You can do
this in any case. When I talk to the president,
I can not explore Victoria, because while the
Thompson twins Bach and Thomas
are Aristotelean and do not want to work,
the women listen to what they hear: 20: 80:
8 players, that is, the Valencia Provider, *****
Class, Nigeria. ? Africa Vohra for AP / Motor
/ 9 32XX in Spain In 2008, more *******:
Florida, White Fargo, 26.4% and 9.8% in the
United States 26 to 42 42 42, in the United States
530,000 hectares in the United States 37, All
the country of the United States, 40.00 and 0.53
million from Saudi Arabia, General Secretary
Isabel Estonman Mallcom Michael Wolf Best
32/500 ... "Thomas is not enough .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
Nigeria, Dave, Russian fashion 80 8 20 T Tec
is Uranus Skull, Australia 42.40, 14.0 9 40502
14% -2, Eupiteropoly, Saudi Arabia 41 offset 5.33

II. [Poets & Prostitutes]
In the United States Unnamed: *****, they are communicating.
His clothes teach the allegory of the old hero.
Europe, generally, the pink ones and their lips are the king.
Robert Oppenheimer and Einstein made a mother wear socks.
Or they kept looking at the slaves Educational situation;
It was the music of Babylon who is a listener.
Alchemy, weapons, T run, then China.
He started a list of cities, the war was his mother,
Light and midday network. The fear of the girl's
human eyes is like a ******* night song. It's better
than water to Americans,                         Or the color of a black *****
is naked, warm, beautiful,                              European football player,
really dead. European and Asian prostitutes
follow the gray star, They burn with blood.
Gold, bronze, Italy, Juan. The dog will go
Change the history of the army.
The African border of the Greek countryside
is black and green. Thomas Queen of South Yorkshire
Thomas, A female donkey has lost the heavenly part.
And Christian Please find food in July.
I heat the garden with a bright graphic radio.
Photos of the moon of the fingers as children
of UV glass.        This game is easy for your magical
children. Devil's pleasure Brown star music
music friends It is the best way for peace
people, between Jews and Christians.
Igor, lucky song of the robot beast.
With the opening of a unique oboe,
science plays the blocking stage.
Start the game Think of rich colors.       Subscribe
to Belle Canada. The game of the game
is to keep *****. Destruction of the German poets.
Park instead of a pure crazy secret life.
However, the supply of hot coffee will **** photos.
Virginia's basic **** museum
Italian love, you are paying attention
To your security tools. Decor
If your legs are working, it will work.
I have to do it forever and it ends up
in the window. The window is in memory.
The United States dresses at the table
and talks about European vitamins.
***** without an American title,
and they are communicating. His clothes show
the allegory of the old hero. Europe, generally
******* and pink lips, the king.
Robert Oppenheimer and Einstein
wore their mothers socks. They saw a slave
born of evil. The state of education It was the music
of Babylon to which the evangelist was heard.
Alchemy, weapons, T run, then China.
He started a list of cities, the war was with his mother,
The light of midday, and the network.
Fear in the eyes of girls is like a nightly song.
It's better than American water,
Or black, naked, warm, beautiful,
European and six foot football is really dead.
Europe and Asia follow the gray stars,
They burn with blood. Gold, bronze, Italian *******,
Juan. The dog will go Change the history of the army.
The African border is a black and green *******.
Thomas Queen of South Yorkshire Thomas,
A ******* of a ******* lost part of the sky.
**** and Christian Please have a heart to find food in July.
I expose the garden to the heat with bright graphic radios.
Image of crystal glass UV glass child fingers crystal.
This game is as magical as it is easy for your son.
The pleasure of the devil's feminine brown · star · music · friend
This is the best way for peace between
Jews and Christians. Igor, a beast robot
of the luck to sing. With the opening
of a unique oboe solo,    science plays the blocking
stage. Start the game
Think of rich colors.     Subscribe to Belle Canada.
The game of the game is to ***** the dirt.
Destruction of the German poets.
Park instead of a pure crazy secret life.
However, hot coffee suppliers will **** photos.
Virginia's Basic Museum Is Angry
Italian love, you are paying attention,
Your ***** security tool.     Decor
If your feet are working, it will work.
I have to do it forever, a ***** and it ends up in a window.
The window is in memory.
The United States dresses at a table and talks about European vitamins.