"alaskan" poems
I march to a different drummer
My life it is my own
I'm an explorer of experience
That is how I'm known
I've seen snow in South Dakota
I've been on the Vegas strip
Had barbeque in Kansas
My life has been a trip
I'm a gypsy of the railways
I'm a legend in my time
I move on in a boxcar
Brother... spare a dime?
I've been through all the landlocked states
Five provinces as well
I've seen Niagara Falls all frozen
I've seen it flowing fast as well
I've had margaritas in Key West
And Bourbon in Kentucky
Craft beers out in Oregon
In my life I have been lucky
I travel on my stories
Feed myself with all my tales
I'm an explorer of experience
I'm a gypsy of the rails
I never stick around too long
I don't wear my welcome out
I come and see just what I want
That's what life is all about
I've railroad friends in Texas
Some up in BC too
We've shared drinks in San Diego
And had a great Alaskan brew
I'm not one to live by your rules
I find my rules suit me fine
I'm an explorer of experience
And I'm riding on the lines
You can find me down in Georgia
Or eating spuds in Idaho
I never know just where I'll be
Until my ride begins to go
I'm a gypsy of the railways
I'm a legend in my time
I move on in a boxcar
Brother...spare a dime?
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
I want to find my Alaskan Sunrise.
Her appearance rare but burned into memory.
Whose warmth begins a new era in time.
Doesn't last long but neither does high tide.
Her beauty is an Alaskan Sunrise.
Burns away evils of the past.
Replacing my thoughts with a warmth that will last.
The light at the end of the month,
Tunnels of darkness a tricky labyrinth.
But I will find that Alaskan Sunrise,
All in good time,
As I wait out the dark,
Dreams of her warmth,
Warms the hollow tree's bark.
My Alaskan Sunrise will melt the dark ice cold,
Erase the old,
Replace with gold,
Hell, I'm already sold.
Alaskan Sunrise,
All in good time.
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 2:39 PM UTC
*stacking the arrows in piles
a triangle of fuego
furnaces blaze fire
infinite reminders
of the morning after
shafts of light
drift from window panes
remake our names in
god’s slumbering veins
from here to there a whisper
or was it a word
fellow companions
have you heard
the threadbare sisters
took their turns
climbing mountains in order
that we could learn
the ways
of green hearted sun-scrapers
sweet little dangers
fellow death chasers
full of music
givers of blooming veils
bouquets of snow and hail
almond shaped eyes
resplendent thighs
and a mind as pure as a lake
during an alaskan winter
in the frozen splinter
trees are taken from their roots
the women are bleeding
weaving you the meat and the story
outsiders are cast from clay into statues
with feminine bodies
curving like cotton candy
i choose to impress you
repeat the compliments
that land on empty stomachs
string together words
like a rosary of sweet nothings
simple deeds give thrilling feats
a chance to restore their honor
purity is unwashed in ***** soil
as i am cut from the cloth of the earth
our shirts are pressed at birth
white light forming fellowship
dimples in the cheeks of the mother
the earth’s bones torn out from under
the way we made ourselves invisible
the minute we realized our accents were noticeable
our actions were abominable
how could we ever repay
the generosity we were treated to
our ultimate needs are met by poetry
upon a ridge a silent figure wept
and held his head upon a bed of cement*
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 2:17 AM UTC
The silver bullets we spread beneath our
eyes, those tears that burst into sparks.
I traded those tears for wisdom,
And the road to glory never seemed so vain.
Now seeing the blank walls in my room, and the sinking ceilings,
I feel there's so much to the world, but like the ocean
it only leaves me thirsty.
So I trade wisdom for this.....
To hang upside down and see your smile,
to see the stars kiss and flicker in the summer heat,
to feel the rain that pours through your hair,
to be blinded by your warmth in the Alaskan sky.
This is wisdom, my dear. This is wisdom.
Playing hide and seek in the night,
holding your hand while the stars fall. Yelling our names into the sky.
This is how legends live on. Ruling the world with laughter,
and stupid jokes, laying on the blue green grass,
falling into the mud, till' the night is weary to see us at play.
Holding the candle of your heart,
singing till' the sky falls to the ground.
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
Evergreen and ivory
Turquoise tears bleed ebony
Fuchsia trees bear violet cherries
Blood oranges,
Mushroom clouds and ashberries.
These are the thoughts that grace my mind
As I turn to leave
Garden gnomes and rose scraped knees
Faster now
Faster than before
Kiss me golden,
Less, then more
And tell me who I am.
Coteries and clandestine deals
Soft-sweet midnight chamomile
And indigo aspirations
Somber February celebrations
Anniversaries white and red
Blue and green and white and red
And can you keep a secret?
Black-tea memories always slap me sleepless
And I have never known quite exactly how I feel.
Clementines suspended in yellow lamplight
Cross it out to scarlet rewrite.
Beige mountains and Alaskan hills
Crescent moon and sawdust mills
Silver smiles on a benign boat
Blessed if I'm an allusion to a footnote.
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 9:25 PM UTC
There'll be a crowd encircling you, I'm sure.
They'll nod at your every word, imperfectly mimicking
what people look like when they actually listen.
I'm sure the crowd will be people we know.
Old high school friends with real estate ventures
and gyms and multi-level marketing schemes.
Most of them will be doughier, their cheeks permanently
stained red from a decade of drinking.
Most of them will have photos of their kids on their phones,
and they'll tell you they're "sure you don't want to see them"
as they pull out their phones and show you photos of their kids.
I imagine I'll approach, stop just short of the circle, pretend to bid on an Alaskan cruise.
As you talk about redoing your floor in a faux tile that looks just like the real thing for like half the price, you'll see me.
I hope you'll think of that kiss five years ago, outside of a bar in Norman, when the world entire bent for us, when all traffic silenced for us, when all people vanished for us.
Maybe you'll think of the time we ****** in a twin-sized bed, beside a wall decorated with newspaper clippings, which I thought made me look worldly and learned. I admit now the look was less academic, more serial killer.
And maybe you'll think of the manchild fit I threw when I found out you had moved on after I moved away.
And maybe you'll be totally present. Good to see you, you'll say. You will ask about my family. We will discuss the cooler weather. We will talk about your business, your kids. We will side hug and say goodbye. We will take the same route to the same exit. There will be children coloring the sidewalk with chalk. We'll each borrow a piece. I'll outline you; you'll outline me.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC
maple-cured, smoked, rawhide hands,
tarantula hands bulldozing rice onto
tines like an icebreaker ramming through
glacial bergs, Holly
Golightly on the tv, on
mute, and oh those hips,
that figure, in that black dress,
banana hands cracking Alaskan king
crablegs and ******* the juice and eating
the meat, legs spindly and hairy
and soaked in butter, dripping,
liver cooking, roasting, sloshed on gin,
cribbage board patinaed
in dust, he eats his liver, downs
another gin, cracks another leg, crab
hair caught in his teeth, Holly talking about
getting the mean reds but he can’t
hear it, his luck run out,
his luck a prize from a box of ******* Jack,
and the snarling throb in his head,
cinderblock face, cinderblock house,
3-day-stubble, has he had enough (to drink)?
not by the stubble of his
chinny-chin-chin,
liver is gone, crab is gone,
so he eats the eyes,
dowsing his ******* Jacks
in gin, yesterday wine-in-a-box
and Cheez-Whiz, sprayed right into his
unbrushed maw, a one-person wine-
and-cheese fête classy as it gets,
he’s Mister High Society,
Cheez-Whiz crust in his stubble,
and a cinderblock CRASHES to the floor and it’s
lights out, and Holly, still no one
to hear her, saying
she’ll never let anyone put her in a cage.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC
The days went fast,
but the nights moved slowly,
like a sad country song
or the Alaskan summer sun -
forever trying to set,
yet never able to do so,
leaving the sky with
the color of perpetual dusk.
Jun 17, 2019
Jun 17, 2019 at 2:49 AM UTC
Nine months of darkness,
Snow on the ground,
No leaves on the trees,
No warmth around.
As the winter comes to a close,
Lakes and rivers still seem froze,
Soon the waters will break free,
Moving life far as eyes can see,
And now its time to have some fun,
Playing under the Alaskan sun.
Rivers are running , bears now conscious,
Birds a flutter, fish obnoxious,
Breathing in the summer air,
Floating down the river bare,
Baggie of green, cooler filled supreme,
Almost as if, it were all a dream.
When I look back, old and grey,
I'll remember the nights and days,
When we found euphoria under the Alaskan sun.
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 8:45 PM UTC
fem in isms,
i imagine Sapphic eyes:
bad *** advert coruscates elite
fairness sensing slavish blind
in gestate calm affirm
in genders More numerous of Windows--
Superior--for Doors--
O harsh judgement foiled,
as a foil, as unknown truth
foil-doubles in the brow,
abject symmetry to systemize
a fertile lack of sterile barrenness,
i am a mediatrix rend,
nirwaan, hijra wonderment aside
from transemotion's ground swells
demeaning to be understood.
i celebrate and face the same
to be what paperwork tests being
normal being, freely chosen
atom each belonging moves
an asterisk of paths
of mutate art of nature social darwin maze.
i imagine Sapphic eyes,
ginko soft they pile up all cobble
memories themselves concretely
cloistered fame
spray of salty waves,
macho screams symbol
for dismissal ease
for tearing at an inner unsaid war
with lists offense of proper taste
to what posterity intends
an undulation womblike seeming nourish safety sounds.
i imagine Sapphic eyes
past
debauched
meanderings
where hyster-clarity rejoins its titular
and reliable escapisms curl the lips
of maleness found
here and there smile sneer love
i imagine Sapphic eyes
linguistic pirouettes
congest that wisdom nonetheless
the moment passed on to a
feigning truth in pretty rhyme
ornamenting time with fine meter fine
vernacular chimes peter in
to juggle perspectival paradox,
redichotomize the twilight idols,
resolve the conflict like a dawn
Aurora,
i imagine Sapphic eyes
running plastic with Alaskan wolves,
toga floats to snow
to let us see the purest fairness form
a ****** circle,
Hypatia ascends from tenebrous grave,
Impregnable of Eye is pregnant now
with Wollstonecraft revered
in liberation's fount
families held exemplar gaze of
Taylor, ****** Cady,
Anthony resanctified
to vote entitlement's
empathic origins, waxen mold
of nascent categories,
narrow hands spread wide to panoply anew
the manifest evolve in true unknowns
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 11:56 PM UTC
Going once the
cruise_______*
One specific lover
What do we uncover
More advice going
twice in (2)
You see an
unexpected
attraction
Like twins with
two heads exact copy
Say Action your movie part
"The offer you cannot refuse"
You cannot duplicate her heart
With another Flower rose
Another heart obligation
"Alaskan Huskies
Twin Adoption"
Two heads better
than one snipper
She- Wolf surf and turf
Mexico taco, at the gulf
Her green planet thumb
Mount Fiji we climb
Right force ruler the heart
divider the duplicate lover
"To Reproduce" over the
a million light-years
duplicated love tears
Years we treasured
It's in our duty
Congregated
United we stand
Imagine the world
stopped to be buried
The duplicate became a
twin maid of honor
She lost her duplicated purse
"Twin Identity"
Doppelganger
Your heart couldn't
hold on____
Any longer
To reproduce the same
forbidden fruit
voiceover singer
The rare find
someone with a
Giving heart
Having a double
scotch doing the part
The pirate wearing
Eye patch*
Twofold twice the gold
one heart match
Poems true believers
One is the snitch
To love life singles or doubles
subjects to catch up in triples
The full house
what a spouse
Your boiling minds
Twice around the
coffee house
The day she or he
was born
The comfort
comes with love
Fire eye lit bedding
(Forever young
double wedding)
You're the one so
gifted hearted*
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 3:00 PM UTC
I came to you, oh mighty land
Asleep to everything at hand
Lethargic from more southern air
Not yet awakened, unaware
The panorama I beheld
Composed a view unparalleled
A pastor with his best endeavor
Could preach forever and forever
And never say with words as clear
As the aura of this atmosphere
In the awe inspiring craggy peaks
And the chasms as His silence speaks
Where His creation stirs conviction
That brings a balming benediction
To one that hungers for a proof
Here, upon the planets roof
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 3:30 PM UTC
.
I looked
Thru the glass at a trembling lil thing
Beady eyes of a worried gerbil
In a worrisome place
The Petco by my house had
Everything you could have
-almost
Rhino's, Daffodil's
Lynx's, Gecko's & even
Alaskan Klee Kai's
Wrapped up in Saran wrap
Or in little glass cages
With little bobbly water dispensers
And kindly placed dishes
Holding nifty pellets of tasty food
That fits their Specialized Diet Plan
They don't have elephants yet
We'll have to ask the manager to order
some of those
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 1:16 AM UTC
Those dog days of summer
Near forgotten and gone,
Are stored for the winter,
And remembered in song.
The dogs' days of winter
Tell a different tale,
Of dogs pulling sleds
In Alaska for mail;
Or searching the Alps
Bringing whiskey and ale,
Panting and pulling
In hills, waters and dales.
Siberian Huskies,
The Great Pyrenees,
The Alaskan Malamute,
Run off their tails
Battling death and disease.
The Keeshond
Doesn't wear
Wooden clogs,
Like the Newfie
And Wolfhound,
They're winter work dogs.
If working in snow
Isn't enough to freeze fur,
Look to the Lab,
In frigid waters
In layers of warm flab
Helping fishermen,
Or retrieving a lad.
These warm furied friends
Will work til their end.
The dog days of summer
Ran off with the pack,
Leaving the dogs
Of our winters
To haul, trail and track.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 12:13 PM UTC
**☉The sun falls in November☉
☊ And won't rise until February ☊**
It's a sick feeling
◉ Total darkness ◉
⍤The pines whisper their worries⍤
☾ Aligned with the moon's shine ☽
Hungry winter bears
❄ And snow-white hares ❄
◗ Try to escape the night ◖
Being out in
⚇ The Last Frontier ⚇
《 All you hear is your breath 》
It's a quite sound
⌭ Snow-creak ⌭
You're left me out here in the cold
☆ But I decided to put my hopes on the stars ☆
There’s so many
So many that are bright
★ I think the dark ones are my favorite ★
◎ Your soul is a crystal sky ◎
✧ Lit from the North ✧
Dancing to a shifting melody
☪ Only broken out at midnight ☪
Changing your colors
To fit your light between my dark stars
***∬ Wavering ∬
§ Fluctuating §***
⊝ Undetected by most ⊝
␥ But those special few watch from the water ␥
⎊ They’re alone like me ⎊
Soon your shows slows
↡ And you fall asleep with the dawn ↡
⚰ Frozen tongues can’t taste your remains ⚰
∈ Nor can they converse with themselves ∋
My heart was left out in the cold
⚉ And it learned to love Alaska ⚉
⚖ Solitude and freedom go hand-in-hand ⚖
⚔ I'm not afraid of commitments ⚔
⚮ But I'm terrified that my heart won't have what it desires. ⚮
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 8:54 PM UTC
Yet with the hype and madness about the Coronavirus
I open window and take a deep breath breath of icy Alaskan air
The glass wearing a frosty negligee
Leaving transparent area just large enough to get a small peek at the natural show of pale snowy scenery on the other side
Eerily quiet
There is a foreboding sensation about the vacant stadium
Lone songbird whistling simple serenades to a pre-apocalyptic invisible audience
Sep 22, 2022
Sep 22, 2022 at 12:15 PM UTC
COLD, HARD flesh - a very lonely girl in a room filled with fluttering moths and fully-functional nooses
- Makes a game plan, in an effort to:
- penetrate your wavering, wandering, yet wholly conscious mind
(The fate - the fear - lurks in the futility, the fragility, of your unsuspecting ears)
- Equipped with: an anchor (the rock-climbing kind, in order to avoid a metaphor), followed by some paper (and a pen - the use of my blood as script seems overly dramatic), and - a concoction of incredible (and edible!!) proportions
THE GOAL:
- To become the smallest presence possible, to take up the tiniest amount of space in the real and imagined world, and to in turn envelope your very existence - like a Sunday driver in rush hour
- with emphasis on:
The slope of your neck - I could mount my anchor into it and climb for days; I could nest in your ****** Youth cut when I reach the top, I could build the world's smallest fire with the world's saddest hands
STEP ONE:
When secured in predesignated cocoon, I will unleash the first sheaf - a perforated edge - and enclose a minuscule fragment of my still-breathing soul (for your keychain, perhaps, but preferably your pocket)
STEP TWO:
I will mail you a fraction (incidentally, a subject I still can't grasp) every week until:
- I have decreased in size with each turn, I get smaller and smaller until my tangibility disappears entirely and the only presence left of me is a slip that reads:
- apply to areas affected (only as directed)
Wait! No, not only that- my very own subconscious now rests inside your "thinking cap"
- INTRODUCING: Your every day monotony, now littered with:
- 17 scratched mix CDs you didn't want to listen to
- 4 dogs I secretly liked (and only you knew)
- a bright pink dumpster, largely livable
- a rusted mailbox with an ocean in full
- soundless Skype calls in stolen sweaters
- alphabet soup with undiscernable letters
- the unfaltering presence of a cabin in the Alaskan wilderness - confused with the very small and haunted town I couldn't leave to see you - and last but not least -
The ceaseless, repeated chorus of "you belong to me", like an immortal fly in an endless August dream
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 12:52 AM UTC
I let you slip through my fingers
As every day yours began to slim
And the puzzle pieces that fit perfectly began to float away like melting ice caps under the Alaskan sun
And I wanted to hold you a little longer
But all the while I felt you absorbing into death like spilt coffee in a washcloth
And bit by bit I watched the sand of your hourglass slide to its end
You always told me you couldn't be scared because heaven was real and you kicked the devil sideways years ago
And for your sake I hope he stayed down, and for your sake I hope you were right
But these days it feels like he's standing up, holding his side, coming back for revenge
He's got his pliers out and he's coming for my soul and I'm kicking I'm fighting I'm screaming
But I'll never be as strong as you and I never learned how to keep afloat of my own sin
So now I'm sinking
And I sit and listen to them speak in artificial intelligence
And wonder how they've kept the devil down
Do they stand on his back and scream "You can't have me now"
Or has he just lost interest like I have?
When all sounds are lost and I've made enough tissue paper thin excuses to stay alone for a few hours, I picture your smile, cloaking me like warm candlelight
But you know the wind came years ago and now it's a flickering warmth
I remember your fingers, skeletal now
And I hope you were right
I hope our slender fingers meet one day
But for now I will feign strength and grind my fears to dust with a mortar and pestle
And for the time being
I cannot look at my own hands
For fear that they be bloodstained
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 4:08 PM UTC
May you remember to stand up straight
May your spines be flagpoles
Sailing your heart at full mast
The caps in your knees full of steel
Unstoppable in your travels of Alaskan tundra
Let your mind grow roots in your culture
May your hunger for knowledge
Be that of a (amaguq) wolf
Never give up on yourselves
For I will never give up on you
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC
im switchin back n forth from the past to present like time is stretching and my mind is elastic
im trapped inside a casket siftin through my brothers, mothers and cousins ashes
they keep metal chains wrapped around my ankles and wrists like i am natural born savage,
padded room and straight jacket, psychosis like you cant imagine,
icicles dripping off the ticking of the clock, tears dripping down the wall like molasses,
swervin in my kayak cuz im addicted to liquor and tabacco,
crystal **** crack and smack from the invasion
forcing Russian Orthodox as my baptism,
certificate of indian blood 25 percent Aleutiq,
but im down with any Eyak, Yupiq, Tlingkit, Haidan, or Athabaskan,
i speak english cuz they stole the native tongue from my Grandma and my Grandpa,
trying to paint a picture of the mask that ive been wearing as i stare at my reflection,
all i see is that i am just another average cold blooded alaskan
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
Late morning after dreaming of these
hand-written Alaskan three-dollar bills
Polaroid photographs of empty silver screens
hidden elevator button escape routes
mid-performance ****** reconstructions
I half-wake from my half-sleep and in seventy-five-cent consciousness
beg the man of my waking misconceptions to meet for one more
one more double latte Marlboro 27 kiss behind the parking lot than we’d ever had
before we part again and he will reunite with his lunchmeat of holiday hopes and aspirations
And I will return to
the land of brotherless love and flaming heterosexuals
the land of ugly **** and self-righteous queers
the land where there is no God because I chased him from the West before he could do me harm
the land filled with my pity and inebriated mindless self-perpetuation
the land consumed with no passion because the Yukon’s landscape eyes are bleak and empty
the land where the only direction is floating down-river to the blood-stained rocks of our maturity
still within my mental prison with my other mental inmates and mental shanks and *****
I dream again with my eyes wide open and lips drawn in two-tier lonely grimace
dream of the blue green red-eyed beauty that I have never known
Mar 5, 2010
Mar 5, 2010 at 6:07 PM UTC
The wind was cold and the air crisp in our lungs
but the streets were clear of ice and the yards barren of snow. Our Alaskan winter just wasn't
Alaskan.
But down came the snow and your giggles of joy erupted from your gorgeous belly as you skated over the ice in your CivNasty,
giggling the whole way. Your joy is nothing but contagious as your smile consumes your face.
My PTSD vanishing as I hold your hand drifting around corners. We're everything but safe,
completely immersed in a fairy tale that is our love story
making donuts in parking lots
and love beneath sheets.
Risky business. Make love to me in this winter wonderland beneath the blankets of white snow and grey clouds engulfing us in the love that is the warmth of our limbs intertwined together.
Whisper secrets to my goosebumps,
My lover.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 8:34 PM UTC
A glow shining from the inside out
As beautiful as the purple magnolias of Asia
Yet as rare as a bright orange Alaskan sunset
So long separated by time and distance
I almost do not recognize the vision set before me
Reality with the ability to transform
Distrusting my eyes
Afraid they may conspire to betray me
To lead me to the path of blunder
Surrendering me to lies and ruin
Outward perception distorted by fear
Is it the meadow of flowers I paint in my dreams?
A winsome smile forces my lips to part
Thoughts of pleasant changes captured within me
I am unable to free them but doubt still lingers
Apprehensive of the mendacious nature of my heart
She unwittingly deceives
Loves without regard to reciprocation
She dominates
I am no match for her strength
I am subject to her will
Mental chains of steel I use to restrain
But the arrows of cupid still calls
The beauty of two beings intertwined beckons
A longing to live in the painted canvas
Perfect hues, perfect shades
Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 7:05 AM UTC
The mighty grizzly bear
Waiting by the waterfall
Watching the crashing waves
Listening to their mystic moves
The first salmon leaps,
Just to make sure it doesn’t run into a famished bear
It’s mind panics, as it realizes what is happening
The bear’s mouth widens
And clamps down its jaws
Satisfied with his dinner, but wanting much more.
The wolf cries out from above
Depending on the moonlight to show her the path
She’s drifting away, too tired.
But remembers she needs to feed her cubs
She lurks in between black spruce trees
Her sons, closely following behind.
The creatures of the night watch where they run
Making sure they don’t catch the attention of death.
Though she doesn’t realize, the scampering rabbit
Just two feet in front of her
The rabbit is lucky enough to have a snow white coat
To blend into god’s blanket, laid across the land.
Mother wolf isn’t so blessed, for tonight is one more night
Her cubs will have to go unfed.
The eagle
Mastering the art of flying
Swimming in the skies
Looking for a tree, too perfect to live
Skimming the land
Just the perfect tree is all he needs
To sleep on tonight
For the sun is coming down
And moon is rising up
The stars become visible
The eagle is getting worried
But finally, he finds a tree
Swings down and places its claws onto a branch
So peaceful, listening to the wolf’s howl
Like the theme song to his life.
Unlike the “woof” that the same animal makes
It pierces his ears, the eagle loathes it.
Finally asleep, eyes closed.
Dreaming is his favorite thing
A television for his mind.
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 5:37 PM UTC
glory glory
glory glory glory glory glory glory glory glory glory glory glory glory glory glory glory glory glory glory glory glory gloria gloria gloria Gloria gloria gloria gloria gloria gloria gloria gloria glora gorilla gorrila gorrilaa gorilla geurilla geurilla guerilla geurilla geruilla warfare crouching behind a bush in the alaskan heat as the predator
makes it **** -- an albatross swoops by for the scraps a little while later .
still and on stilts, Hi- C and tasty, show biz
May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 5:52 PM UTC