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Daniel Sandoval Jan 2013
Thomas O’Keene, like most little boys,
imagined great things when he played with his toys.
In the big room that he shared with his brothers,
he would make a big tent with all the bed covers.
Inside his great castle, he played and he dreamed
of far away places and fabulous things.

He played giant robots, who came from the stars
with swords made of lasers and dinosaur cars.
He’d pretend to be the hero from his video games,
who ate yellow flowers and then shot out flames.
Thomas would tell tales of all that he saw
like the one-eyed stink monster with the big yellow claw;
a noisome creature to others unseen,
but was always around when Thomas ate beans.
Or how purple aliens had taken his juice,  
it was to fuel their invasion, of this he had proof.

“Thomas stop telling stories,” his mother would scold him.
Oh, how many times had she told him?
She sent him to bed,
and away slunk poor Tom hanging his head.
It was only ten past eight,
and he never got to stay up late.

Then Tom had an idea; he knew just what to do.
He’d show them that all of his stories were true.
He would build a machine so they could all see
the wonders thus far known only to he.

He found a box,
some stinky socks,
parts from a clock,
and a few small rocks.
Some peanut butter,
a toy boat rudder,
a number 2 ,
his brother's shoe,
and about two bottles of school glue.
A broken video game controller,
wheels from the baby stroller,
some batteries from the remote,
a rubber ducky swimming float.

He pulled and stretched,
pushed and vexed,
hammered and rammed,
and ******* and jammed.

Finally complete,
though not very neat,
he sat down for the start of his job
and slowly turned a big red ****.

But nothing happened. What could be wrong?
He didn't know why it wouldn't turn on.
The machine was no good, and this made Tom sick.
Frustrated, he gave it a great big kick.
The machine came to life. It sputtered and whined,
and up rose a wisp with a faint scent of pine.  
Then, came a rumble that shook the whole room
followed shortly by a great big kaboom!
Thomas covered his ears and shut his eyes tight,
and what he saw when they opened was quite a sight.

There crouched down in his room
was a giant robot from an alien moon!
Then right beside it, as big as a could be,
was his dinosaur car, the T-Rex X3.
But this was not all that came from the machine,
other strange things began to be seen.
He had done it, they were all here,
here in his room so perfectly clear.
“You stay right here,”
he said with a cheer.

Now he ran to get his mother, father and brothers
to show them that these were not make-believe others.
Then, he heard a loud crash that came from his room.
He stopped in the hall and then came the boom.
Thomas rushed back and found a giant hole in the wall
almost 10 feet wide and 8 feet tall!
His robot was gone and so were the others,
and then he heard a call from his mother.
“Thomas O'Keene! What was that noise?!”  
Thomas thought quickly. “Um, just playing with toys.”
“Get back in bed!” was his mothers reply
to what was not really a lie.

Thomas was scared and didn't know what to do.
How could he fix this, he was all out of glue.
Then he saw a blue crayon and snatched it up quick.
He hoped this would work, it must do the trick.
On the cardboard box side he scribbled "reset."
then drew a big circular button and pressed it.
Thomas held his breath and thought as he did,
Why, oh why had he not built a lid?
He waited there silent for a moment or two,
then opened his eyes and just saw his room.

No holes in the wall, no great robot man,
just bunk beds and toys and the lamp on it's stand.
He looked down before him and beheld his machine.
"Never again..." thought Thomas and went off too his dreams.
This is a long poem I wrote about my son. I hope to have it made into a children's book someday. The moral of the story is, imagination is a great thing and you should let it run wild but always remember to build a lid on your machine.
Don Bouchard Jan 2012
I remember reading
Martin Luther King, Jr's
Letter from Birmingham Jail
Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom
Mark Twain's Huck Finn
DuBois' Souls of Black Folk
For the first time

The words of Chief Joseph
Sitting Bull
Tecumseh
James Welch
and Alexie Sherman
And others of indigenous kind
Linger like arrows in my mind.

Of course, there's
Gilgamesh's forlorn quest for Enkidu;
Osiris, Amun, Ra, and Seth,
Homer's Illiad and Odyssey,
And Virgil's Roman treatment -
(For whom the gods destroy
We all must learn bereavement).

I remember reading
Milton's Paradises (lost and found)
And Dante's Infernal quest for Heaven
Through the bowels of Hell with Virgil's spritely guide
And up the Devil's staircase with Beatrice by his side.
John's Revelation of Times' End;
And LaHaye's money-making Left Behind
Apocalypses here to chill my mind.

I have surveyed Dead Presidents
Washington,
Jefferson,
Lincoln
Both Roosevelts, Ted and Frank,
And Reagan
And smatterings of others...
Then hopped the bookish pond to read
Sir Winston and some others,
Not the least of whom is Gandhi G,
Taught by the Queen to free his brothers.

I have studied
Moses
Job
David
Ruth
Esther
Isaiah
Jeremiah
The Disciples
Paul
and James
(Ironically,
Though Jesus is the "Word"
He never penned one).

British poets's thoughts,
Tale tellers long-dead
Have found their way
Into my head:
Beowulf and Chaucer
Old moral plays
Shelley and Keats
Cavalier Poets
Scott and Brownings
Burns and (not) Allen
Spenser and Shakespeare
Dylan and Tolkien
Lewis and Auden
And so many more
That I leave on the floor

Western Americana I have loved
Hemingway and Steinbeck, all worth the time,
Mari Sandoz' Old Jules, and
Rolvaag's Giants in the Earth,
Keroac went on the road, while
Joseph Kinsey Howard showed us the West
Lewis & Clark in journals scribed
Their journey west and back again

I can't forget psychology
And so I will digress
Or Sigmund's accusation stays
That I have but suppressed:
Ellis, Freud, and Eric Berne,
Pavlov, Skinner, Thorndike, Watson,
Wundt, and Wm James, Piaget and Chomsky
Then Vygotsky and Bandura put a social spin
on cognitive psychology, and Everybody's in.
Diverging and Converging, psychic students, all
Could never make transaction
'Til Rogers tried to make some peace
But Ellis wouldn't have 'im.

And then, of course,
The lighter stuff,
The popcorn of the mind:
Clancy, Rankin, Carole Keene
L'Amour and Will James
Stephen King and Poe,
Cruz Smith and Leon Uris,
Grisham, Deaver, Cornwall,
Asimov, Bradbury and Herbert,
Carroll and Baum...
Written Words change us.... I use the term "poem" as Louise Rosenblatt did, namely, a poem is the creation each reader makes to describe the connection between the Text and his or her own life experience, opinion, knowledge, beliefs, feelings, etc. Those "poems" affect and change us in our wanderings on this earth. I am, indeed, changed by the texts I have read and continue to read....
In haphazard fashion, I am starting a collection of writers who give me an understanding of the world's color and shape. This is just the beginning.... If readers have suggestions or reminders, I will add the ones I have read....
Don Bouchard Jan 2016
I remember reading
Martin Luther King, Jr's
Letter from Birmingham Jail
Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom
Mark Twain's Huck Finn
DuBois' Souls of Black Folk,
Adichie's The Thing Around Your Neck,
Sherman Alexie's Part-time Indian tale....
For the first time

The words of Chief Joseph
Sitting Bull
Tecumseh
James Welch
and Alexie Sherman
And others of indigenous kind
Linger like arrows in my mind.

Of course, there's
Gilgamesh's forlorn quest for Enkidu;
Osiris, Amun, Ra, and Seth,
Homer's  Illiad and  Odyssey,
And Virgil's Roman treatment -
(For whom the gods destroy
We all must learn bereavement).

I remember reading
Milton's Paradises (lost and found)
And Dante's Infernal quest for Heaven
Through the bowels of Hell with Virgil's spritely guide
And up the Devil's staircase with Beatrice by his side.
John's Revelation of Times' End;
And LaHaye's money-making Left Behind,
Collin's Hunger Games and Dashner's Maze Running
Apocalypses enough to chill my mind.

I have surveyed Dead Presidents
Washington,
Jefferson,
Lincoln
Both Roosevelts, Ted and Frank,
And Reagan
And smatterings of others...
Then hopped the bookish pond to read
Sir Winston and some others,
Not the least of whom is Gandhi G,
Taught by the Queen to free his brothers.

I have studied
Moses
Job
David
Ruth
Esther
Isaiah
Jeremiah
The Disciples
Paul
and James
(Ironically,
Since Jesus is the "Word,"
Through men He penned).

British poets's thoughts,
Tale tellers long-dead
Have found their way
Into my head:
Beowulf and Chaucer
Old moral plays
Shelley and Keats
Cavalier Poets
Scott and Brownings
Burns and (not) Allen
Spenser and Shakespeare
Dylan and Tolkien
Lewis and Auden
And so many more
That I leave on the floor

Western Americana I have loved
Hemingway and Steinbeck, all worth the time,
Mari Sandoz' Old Jules, and
Rolvaag's Giants in the Earth,
Keroac went on the road, while
Joseph Kinsey Howard showed us the West
Lewis & Clark in journals scribed
Their journey west and back again

I can't forget psychology
And so I will digress
Or Sigmund's accusation stays
That I have but suppressed:
Ellis, Freud, and Eric Berne,
Pavlov, Skinner, Thorndike, Watson,
Wundt, and Wm James, Piaget and Chomsky
Then Vygotsky and Bandura put a social spin
on cognitive psychology, and Everybody's in.
Diverging and Converging, psychic students, all
Could never make transaction
'Til Rogers tried to make some peace
But Ellis wouldn't have 'im.

And then, of course,
The lighter stuff,
The popcorn of the mind:
Clancy, Rankin, Carole Keene
L'Amour  and Will James
Stephen King and Poe,
Cruz Smith and Leon Uris,
Grisham, Deaver, Cornwall,
Asimov, Bradbury and Herbert,
Carroll and Baum...

The list goes on and on, and will, I'm sure, expand beyond capacity.
Work in progress.... Thanks to Soul Survivor for catching my glitch about Jesus.... Since all Scripture is God-breathed, technically, Jesus is the author of Holy Scripture, and He inspired the text we know as the Bible.... Good catch!
It's the night before Christmas
And all over the hill
The NRA was defending
Their right to ****
It didn't much matter
That the innocent died
"Give us more guns"
The NRA cried
The field must be even
For all to survive
If a person owns four
Then let's give them five
Guns don't **** people
It's people who do
Mr. Wayne LaPierre
It's just people like you
Who represent crazies
One's who are off their top
People who choose
To die at the hands of a cop
The President wants
To bring guns under control
But, there's too many like you
Who live your life in a hole
Would it matter to you
If  your kid got shot
Or is the sale of more guns
What helps get you hot
I think that you should
Go and see David Keene
And make Christmas this year
The best one that's been
Listen to Obama
And get things in line
Reduce gun production
And help make things fine
Do what's right for the country
Gun lobby be ******
And help make the States
A much safer land
Think with your heart
Of the families who lost
Their hopes and their children
It's too high a cost
Think of the future
And give up the fight
So all gentle people
Can have a safe night !!
NuurSeraph Apr 2014
If there will be a tolerating of a metered Tapping
Of finicky high pitch the flipping of flapping
If domino fingers find dancing refinement as pins in the roll of the promenade brigade

Then command to attention each private and captain, each Sergeant, lieutenant, Commander in Chief, and deputy director,  please seniors and majors...I've called an assembly, I'd like to keep brief.

To even presume some desire is pouncing, waiting in ready to Connect on Command, as if orders have issued external assignment, a repose from an otherwise comical stand.

There is nothing more perfect, and no one more clever, no motive for power 'scuse a Daft Rumour Spreader.

Just simply a-script from a quick keene observer, that was shoved to the seat like some kind of Sacrificial Meat.

In A-gaze, Stiff as Steel-Steering of hands
Gripping heat on the wheel in the front of this Monster Truck Madness Ordeal.

It's easy to jeer, laugh, joke and sneer from the drunk, detached comfort of Stadium Beer.

But, Wait, a Reminder!!
We are all in the Boat!
Don't yell at the driver
Then claim not to Float.

Oh, so I see, it's clearly
just innocence
do forgive me,
Cause it comes from the jarring, and scarring, manure in air, that boasts of boldly stout cheering fanfare, clamoring, yammering, death rally hammering, celebrating dirtiest, grittiest, most Carelessly Daring.

Why would the crowd be gathered if not to service-us with shocking engagement to consummate longing for Death's-Entertainment?

I've always found this sinister trait in human beings grossly Un-great.
Won't understand some strange, anomalous behaviors as absolutely peachy keen...actually they're quite disturbing and really Mean.
nvinn fonia Jun 2017
judas


a continuity guranteed
the nectar bequeaths
forlong
forgivess
the
edifice, a
roll of dicees
2.pm a preemtive.the-blue-acron in chrome
i-would know _ -
as forr a while
,(radio rahim....)
for you
,tic-trackks,tic-trackks viggelntees)
  a
vigill,
  


in existence,
radio rahim the landscapes keept changing

a workk in progress


,santa maria,,,,  ,,mayy b ourr dreams

of the reverence  
  into the very  profound  


dayy 5
on the road
is lunch  now ............






along the heavy points
4pm same dayy
a brown tea *** so nicely preserved but off no grater utility
just a brown tea pottt
38 ...**** again ..huh .....just likk thatt
.... kindda winds up ,,wry

now ....
  still passionate  though

        
  /frothing/foams  
    
"jeddah"
" gives wayy too ".

along the /tumultus ,dry
the same dayy
footing
it coms  2 itt noww,,a cold..trance ,, embezeled

!! forr ,regressed. ,thoseof us VISIBL- Keene

it is finally-plenteous

breathing!a more juniper

. . cold. \ invisible,grooming////
    
    
  turns outtit should end here
  
  
  chapter 2
  
  
  _

   reasons /acuity/  th more the merrierer
   my bliss/slits
   till-kingdom comes .
   / & the black space everywhere in
   them the/many minds
   all the more
   \><citadel.come and go touch of gold
   see to believe
  
             &&&&&
  <    deep blue lakes that  never end
their rune
and it  returns  a ship on her chest

that i will reach places un dreamt of
\   will   returnn  > there. everyplace
  
  tea
  
  
  
<>>>>\

    
        stays afloat,  
      dispels /beaten /scowls
   scary ,all-of jiggling/kepp bouncying
     ><weeds out / >minuscules
  
  
  
        ripes/renders
         <jessica>>>>jamboree
         come face me.


     the grandest / all  the oddities
  
    one magic invention i was missing all this time
  
  
  transgression/ kindda may be timid /  
  my jive / rruby/mouthing
a last supper if you will .something akin
  
  
  
  wt i was
endless
immeasurable the - wild/beckons/ ribbons and knots
door to door
tropic


day/&night; /
\
i was
i would

on my side

Ausual-revival
Arendition again  again
and
lifee-like
-ride
and whatever moreover all oveer the leftovers
rose swells . fine
  
  
  
our grasslands,

you know
, stilts

frantic Jiving,Jiving Jiving



  





in smoke

  -reels/
incapabl,,
indecicve

one more dayy
and through
th moors




are off ,,,, raspberry,
discontent
  / neatt/
  mother  fuggazii ,,

a week goes
mayb a month a long intention
, itt- sooths./all the more



onegin \
Gerianne- ,,twitces  .
astute, many floors up,
pigging cleaning,every quarter
the clouds/massquadre ,this is cat

to,,, through ,,,,,moved

, a-blue,, temple

a bloom,a ,temple

a rook a trek a stoop now
Buddha, a simpleton/buddah

geriane




16
,, miniature lamps,,blizzards
all that can
in a man/rigour

all that hula hoop
possibly a merry christmass,,
dayys spent ,,
,,  full

you  are all that is

sire a \
all the pleasures off a small room
full off all the kool tools
an art decoo sire by now you know it
all thecrystal fairies in blue crystall *****


pretty slick,,,runs
,piping hott ,, undone
&the;
buddha, the-rider,, the- boxes,,,layaway

the glistering

the beaming, all  the book keeping

a philistine, if i mayy

impeccable, and  free
glitters all  the hourrs,
a\ repliccaa

just a beguiling  taste ,\
,sire,,little empty purposely,, masterfully done,,,sire
beefy ,,sire
,and, plenty-full

surelyy

the nectar bequeaths









projected .mediocre , mister
faires in ferries  shimmering  dearest of stories
  / wings
/reminising
  
  
    _

drool
    
    
    
  an artt decoo sire,,,a purple tea *** in which we drink our tea,

,,mirrors,,, the very best in the pristine

the mannequins,,all the more

-buddha,
the-rider,, the- boxes,,

,,sire
iff only i may
all that   hula hoop.we survived  alone

& hometown alleys too,
the innate
shufling,  neat //pique
   from,treetops,bellhops,  all  pitstops
   chit chats-flips flops flat
lemonade/the charade the bee hives all
handmade
kind of  dreams /transpicuous
**** you would knoow that
anyway
blinking/ slits . //slithers

leaping/ reaping/ leaving all

blue //eyes bulls eye


archic // mine bck off !
Alyssa Wilson Jul 2012
The only light
From the headlights of my car
And from your house windows.
My face buried in your neck
My hand curled around your head.
Your arms sheltering my body
The pressure on my shoulders from your weight
My feet pressed onto my toes
So I can reach you.
Thus we would stay forever
If we had the choice.

Driving away from you
I can’t bear to look back
But I know you’re watching
And my tears are coming too fast
For me to try to control.
I yell into my silent car,
“****!”
The expression of my loss.
Feeling like I was punched in the heart.

When my tears finally subside
- Somewhere near Keene –
You call
And I blurt out short answers
Not able to speak how I feel
Knowing I can succumb
To the swell of agony again
At any moment.
And on the rest of the ride home
Bursting into tears
When there’s a line in a song
That reminds me of you.
But I know if I turned it off
I would break down completely.

Moment after moment
Flashes through my head
Of time we’ve spent together.
The time you told me you loved me.
The time I made you cry.
The time you got me flowers – perfect flowers,
Not the kind I would have hated.
The times we exchanged cutes over texts
Until I couldn’t stand it anymore.
The time we saw each other again
And I couldn’t look you in the eye.
The times I sought you out when I was lonely and hurt.
The times we started drinking together.
The time you looked into my eyes as you removed my shirt.
The time you listened on the phone as I poured out my soul.
The time I swung around a lamppost to face you
When you said something shocking and slightly offensive.
The time you told me my smile was enchanting.
The time I saw your band play a show
The time I told you I loved you.
I see all this and more
In the headlights of my car.
Eva Clay Feb 2016
Does anything that anyone does even matter
Sure I've got religion but it feels like it doesn't apply because on some level I have a knowledge that I'll be alright but then there's this other level that likes throwing very speedy and illegal curve ***** from around the corner of existence and I'll be fine one minute and crying the next and I've been called childish for that (I resent that alex keene) but I am
We all are
Humans are too fragile to be allowed emotion to be allowed relationships with other people
Like I can't take care of someone else's stability, do I look like I have my life together?
That's why trusting is so difficult because to me real trust is knowing you can complain to someone without feeling annoying and knowing they'll listen and not judge you and actually care what you say
But all of this is going into the void anyway and no one will read it so does it matter
Does anything matter, we're back here again
nothing matters nothing matters nothing
My brain quite legitimately reminds me of this and that's not pretentious poetry BS

I wish my head would turn off and go to sleep and then maybe I wouldn't have racoon eyes and my mom would stop complaining about my sour disposition
Can I get an amen from my fellow insomniacs?
nvinn fonia Apr 2019
our grasslands,frantic Jiving,Jiving Jiving  carries     the full moon  
things you know ,under stilts- day/&night; /\are off ,,,, raspberry,
discontent,  its in  my winter,  / in  my seasons/  mother  fuggazii a neatt blueberry /trimed, neat
  

  ,                        
,bespoken// man off the hour Onegin \Gerianne- ,,twitches  .Onegin \Onegin \Gerianne-
astute,!!! many many-floors up, piping- cleaning,every quarter the clouds/masquerade ,this is cat______
to,,, through ,,through,,n,moved, a-blue,, temple a bloom,a ,temple a rook a trek a stoop now
Buddha, a simpleton/buddah geriane
evn more, man , means  pristine,adhoc ,reminisce wt i was wt wht wht ever i was
end-knot, end knot yet waas itt it was probable most likely
immeasurable , -penetrable the - wild/man go take a look beckons/you hey  the  ribbons the  knots
knots  the wrought what for/wt for noww  door to door
tropic tropic endemic you hear wt you see you lurch you b you b you believe sort  off  
on my sideAusual-revival A rendition again  again and lifee-like -ride
and whatever moreover all oveer the leftovers rose swells . fine
inn smoke  -reels/ ncapabl,,indecicve ne more dayy nd through
th moors,,a week goes
mayb a month a long intention  itt- sooths./all the more doggs
onegin \Gerianne- ,,twitces  .astute, many floors up,pigging cleaning,every quarter
the clouds/massquadre ,this is cat to,,, through ,,,,,moved , a-blue,, temple
a bloom,a ,temple a rook a trek a stoop now Buddha, a simpleton/buddah
geriane droggs onegin \Gerianne- ,,twitces  .astute, many floors up,
pigging cleaning,every quarter
the clouds/massquadre ,this is cat

to,,, through ,,,,,moved, a-blue,, temple a bloom,a ,temple a rook a trek a stoop now
Buddha, a simpleton/buddah geriane
,, miniature lamps,,blizzards all that can in a man/rigour
all that hula hoop possibly a merry christmass,,dayys spent ,,,  full you  are all that is
sire a \all the pleasures off a small room full off all the kool tools an art decoo sire by now you know it all thecrystal fairies in blue crystall *****    
,pretty slick,,,runs ,piping hott ,, undone &the; buddha, the-rider,, the- boxes,,,layaway
the glistering the beaming, all  the book keeping a philistine, if i mayy

impeccable, and  free glitters all  the hourrs,a\ repliccaa just a beguiling  taste ,\
,sire,,little empty purposely,, masterfully done,,,sire beefy ,,sire,and, plenty-full
surelyy the nectar bequeaths
( projected .mediocre , mister faires in ferries  shimmering  dearest of stories
  / wings/reminising      buddah     buddah.    
  an artt decoo sire,,,a purple tea *** in which we drink our tea,

,,mirrors,,, the very best in the pristine the mannequins,,all the more
the -buddha,the-rider,, the- boxes,,,,sire iff only i may evn more
from wt i was endless immeasurable the - wild/beckons/ ribbons and knots
knots what for/ door to door  tropic
day/&night; /i was i would on my side
Ausual-revival  Arendition again  again  and  lifee-like -ride
and whatever moreover all oveer the leftovers  rose swells . fine
our grasslands,you know , stilts  frantic Jiving,Jiving Jiving
in smoke  -reels/incapabl,,indecicve  one more dayy and through  th moors
are off ,,,, raspberry,discontent  / neatt/  mother  fuggazii ,,
a week goes  mayb a month a long intention, itt- sooths./all the more

coldest,yet An ongoing black screen, then you came   colored coldd eminence  at al times
around me,   the birds,forrow Here burning,  Orange yello/blue brigand
In a lot, and  the cloud,  the grasslands to let me in,  dollor man
a board, a bloom Buddha, a simpleton ,  slanted/ forever possibily
  glistering/the ice cones,gingivitis floating away    /balloons
Above//   before beyond   half  half ,exciting  Elicit, , derelict,  
,  /never closing  a fantasia what i mean when i need  
   rerun .the chapters <retort>     there's a god  today in this moment and i can feel  it  .
   "jessica"\    ( the drudge   ducks   dips digs more and more
     won't stopp)       diners too many  tea  
  <>>>>\        stays afloat,        dispels /beaten /scowls   scary ,all-of jiggling/kepp bouncying
     ><weeds out / >minuscules         ripes/renders
         <jessica>>>>jamboree          come face me.
     the grandest / all  the oddities     one magic invention i was missing all this time
    transgression/ kindda may be timid /    my jive /our rruby/mouthing
a last supper if you will .something akin
   reasons /acuity/  th more the merrierer
   my bliss/slits    till-kingdom comes .   / & the black space everywhere in
   them the/many minds    all the more    \><citadel.come and go touch of gold
   see to believe              &&&&  <    deep blue lakes that  never end
their rune and it  returns  a ship on her chest
that i will reach places un dreamt of   will   returnn  > there. everyplace
                        
                  
   still passionate  though    /frothing/foams  "jeddah" "a simpleton, gives wayy too ".
the landscapes.an excerptluxomberg- along the /tumultus ,dry  the same dayy footing it foams  2 itt noww,,a cold..trance ,, embezeled !! forr ,regressed. ,thoseof us VISIBL- Keene
it is finally-plenteous breathing!a more juniper  . . cold. \ invisible,grooming////      
  turns outt
_..... ) .same dayys, for ever,evoles the delicate, the muffin menin muffin coats
/,/renders the arc  dayy 5 on the road is lunch  now ............
along the heavy points 4pm same dayy a brown tea *** so nicely preserved but off no grater utility just a brown tea pottt  37 -38 ..........just likk thatt
.... kindda winds up ,,wry now ....the fckig landscape.an excerpt  luxomberg
alice springs.carrie. chapter 1,the landscapes 2.pm preemtive.the-blue-acron in chrome  i-would know _ -as forr a while  ,(radio rahim....) for you ,tic-trackks,tic-trackks viggelntees) a vigill,


step1 : sudo apt-get install xserver-xorg-input-all step2 : sudo apt-get --purge autoremove xserver-xorg-input-all && sudo apt-get install xserver-xorg-input-all
nvinn fonia Dec 2016
&&&

                  
                  
                  
     still passionate  though

        
  /frothing/foams  
    
"jeddah"
"a simpleton, gives wayy too ".

the landscapes.an excerptluxomberg-
along the /tumultus ,dry
the same dayy
footing
it coms  2 itt noww,,a cold..trance ,, embezeled

!! forr ,regressed. ,thoseof us VISIBL- Keene

it is finally-plenteous

breathing!a more juniper

. . cold. \ invisible,grooming////
    
    
  turns outt
__

— The End —