Sloane swallows.
***** is ****!
I execrate extraterrestrial.

We are all kaput to conk out.

Pollyanna is singular hanky—panky.
Little green men are unpatriotic, perverted and naughty.
I verily don’t grease a *****
Oojakapivvycum.

If you are amphibious that means you are an effervescent ventriloquist capable of
Cannibalism, cannibalism and cannibalism.
The fluid inside the android is so gothic and naff
It is knock—kneed in the face of flashing *******.
I do not feel that I am on the shoulders of cobber doggies.
I am protoplastically lassoed abutting penetrating vampire and pervert
That penetrate ***** creature.
I have pricked little green men myself and taken pleasure in it.
It is only with the help of bad hair days of groupies that I have not been in Sing Sing.

We are all sadomasochistically decomposing in a heap of our own meconium.

I bore stiff to outstrip yours truly as much as I have room to swing a cat from Ku Klux ****,
But I am as complicit in the android’s ****** abuse as it were android ***.
Little green men ***** me as I ***** myself.
I ***** bug—eyed men’s ******* types as I have perpetually vomited Molotov cocktail.
I smell little green men’s filth televised on their ******* types.
I feel like I am inside a crust of cancers who delight in smelling others bonk upstairs,
Ad hominen id.  Ex post facto,
I am too much of a dastard to throw cold water on myself.
I coagulate gungily to my menstrual gibbering ******,
Castrating anti—Semite to flash me abutting crème de la crème.  
Strenuously, my ***** gluts under one’s nose because that is all there is.

Dark driveways in muggy weather
Look like sand stuck in a feather

Ferns and curbs don't go together.

Clean, thoughts on it
Wrong again
Seemed, nope not this song again
A misty clip
Of winter ****
Seemed so soft and fond again.

Face the throat and choke the face
Wait for boats, critique the wave
Answer into sushi dish,
'Was this really once a fish?'

You, oh you! Oh you, oh you.
True, we knew! Who knew? Not you.

Don't begin to read the news
Now it's burning rows of twos

Ferns and curbs don't go together
Runny nose in sunny weather
Feel like lakes lassoed and tethered

Ferns and curbs don't go together.

Heathens -
in heaven's lobby
flock
to barter
for Magic 'Shrooms
with pop rocks... and pancakes
and leaf-green brownies.
new to the scene;
the Son of Man
holds a motley court,
then wanders off
to fetch Picasso - Lassoed
from his cups, his Love that must Love
his genius... doubtless,
cloud-scrawling
huge pendulous *******
in Elysium; for no one at all.
better Pablo
should tend bars      that set mobs free
than one god's toddler, with long odds
against Bacchus - should ever
small-talk-speak
to the godless
or worse...
preach.

" Better Sins to love.. " The Spaniard once taught...
A Lover's Urge is born in forms of weakness.... adorned in all Might -
bathed in blessed contradiction,
a Lingam for a Yoni's dream of stiff drinks
and pliable men, with strong arms.
a blue fiction  on Calvary -
nailed to the softest
cross.

Between thieves,
an honor, double
parked

with bucket seats brimming with moonlight,
and her knickers
tossed.

Picasso asks for absinthe
to be sent
post haste
and polished off -
by all
his better angels he had guillotined
with dull snails,
and fallen  
harps

ones -  he stole,  to de-tune
a flat fifth of Cuttysark
for a deaf
****,  [but no mute ]
a portrait, ****
and is soon
bought...

lust
sleeps then -
with both Eyes;  
Locked on
One of
God's.

like a deer
in a Head-light's
Gospel...
now, a Minotaur on the
Autobahn -
stalking
it.


II

Heathens
in heaven's lobby
recite ' Howl '
as Ginsberg, walks over hot coals
and spicy psalms; glowing wanton
in white grass; with a very
cherry ****.
And a wise throng, cobbles...
****** -
they rob
Peter of his  toga,
leaving nothing wrong.
but no less ' On '
they laugh hard;  and wake the dead
asking  them for new songs
to set    their false alarms
in lofty Tic' Tocks  
of Eternity's
clock.
Bible on a snooze bar
for at least that long
or  someone
knocks.

As if  "Hello."  
Spoke the Whole World into Being -
And " Goodbye."
misspoke, and
trailed
off...

I only shoot to **** my food
Not for pride or pleasure
I hunt the meat we all can eat
Not for a mantlepiece treasure

But late one night I was lying in bed
And someone was at my door
I jumped to my feet like a ninja in heat
And crawled across my floor

It was dark inside my livingroom
But I could see a silhouette
The next thing I saw took my breath
It's something I'll never forget

A deer was wearing a ski mask
His antlers poked out the top
I jumped to my feet as fast as I could
And yelled, "Bambi you better stop"

He turned around and began to charge
I screamed for my wife to get back
He pulled a knife and cut my arm
With another sneak attack

He chased me down the hallway
The bathroom my only hope
But when I tried to get inside
He lassoed me with his rope

He tied me up and robbed my house
My wife was under the bed
He went through all of our dresser drawers
Her underwear on top his head

He finally left, the house was a mess
There were hoofprints everywhere
He took the remote to our color Tv
And even our silverware

Before he left he pointed and laughed
And called me a crazy old geezer
But my wife is scared and cannot rest
Until I put him in my freezer

when that strange man in the park
asked me if love could cause physical pain
i told him that i fell in love with a smile
once
a smile that lassoed and squeezed my heart and lungs
until they were one boiling *****

a smile that buried into my back
pulled out the pink shy parts
i paid an expert to destroy
pink devils
i cried into my cousins shoulder on autumn benches
pink tears

i fell madly pinkly in love with a smile
plucked like a fish from dark winter water
admired
looked after
worthy of inspection
smiling breath on my scales and back
where the pink between them is apparent

then hurled back into winter water
where the day discharges slowly over the grass
in the courtyard.

i told that strange man in the park
my pink insides fizzle-pop like meat on
the summer sidewalk
when i imagine the smiling angler
making that next pull

admiring and smiling
cradling the back like a
pink chalice

That one thinks it's first catch.
As did I. Dark lip burn marks
On the pink.
Physical Pain.

I only shoot to **** my food
Not for pride or pleasure
I hunt the meat we all can eat
Not for a mantlepiece treasure

But late one night I was lying in bed
And someone was at my door
I jumped to my feet like a ninja in heat
And crawled across my floor

It was dark inside my livingroom
But I could see a silhouette
The next thing I saw took my breath
It's something I'll never forget

A deer was wearing a ski mask
His antlers poked out the top
I jumped to my feet as fast as I could
And yelled, "Bambi you better stop"

He turned around and began to charge
I screamed for my wife to get back
He pulled a knife and cut my arm
With another sneak attack

He chased me down the hallway
The bathroom my only hope
But when I tried to get inside
He lassoed me with his rope

He tied me up and robbed my house
My wife was under the bed
He went through all of our dresser drawers
Her underwear on top his head

He finally left, the house was a mess
There were hoofprints everywhere
He took the remote to our color Tv
And even our silverware

Before he left he pointed and laughed
And called me a crazy old geezer
But my wife is scared and cannot rest
Until I put him in my freezer

The clock was bound to strike midnight
This I already knew.
But I lost track of time,
And I stayed searching for my shoe.

It's like I was playing tug of war with a cowboy
I just really didn't have a chance.
I might as well have been doing the tango,
During a western square dance.

As soon as I tried to walk away,
The cowboy was up in arms.
He lassoed the rope around my waist,
And I heard the shrill of alarms.

Yet I still let him reel me in,
Like a fish caught in a net
I laid all my chips down and out,
Knowing I was loosing the bet.

I joined his game freely,
With my whole army down.
I had no back up at all.
A shopaholic out on the town.

And now I'm all torn up
Cause he's done and had his way.
And with a tip of his hat,
This cowboy's said good day.

He's ridden off into the sunset
And I've watched him disappear.

And I'm the cut up fragments of an unwanted ****
That the gardener tore up with his sheers.

what stefan zweig mentioned -
of the 19th century’s inability of being
fond of its youth including robespierre responsively
in the revision invoking the polar dialectics of reconsideration -
i too can claim of similar recount
from the 21st century a fated twinning -
even though i lived in the last years of the twentieth
i allow myself very crude comparisons
to ease ageing.
sure stefan knew a thing or two about hölderlin
in the descriptive localisation, given that hölderlin:
being of those disfavoured remnants of engagement with eugenics
revived very little hope of a bored aristocracy, so that
nietzsche came along and militarised the priesthood
leaving the pope on a pulpit of celebrity power
in a pyramid scheme of posing queues kissing the foreheads of babies
with duran duran in the background shooting the video: toddlers on film.
but that’s how it all appears,
that the 21st century lost the care for the cares of the young
and gave them unto the gnashing teeth of the psychiatric
machine, diagnosing them too early with too much so that
when the poetic version of don mc’lean’s american pie
came with the opening: a long long time ago,
how that music used to make me smile,
and i knew that if i had my chance... but something
touched me deep inside the day the poetry died - it
was simply vowels in refrigerators and consonants in d.j. uplifts
for the aura of a monetary capitalistic saturday
of neons contorting mascara into afterglow of the oomph oomph
sick ‘em slick ‘em drumkit snare galoshes in puddles in electronic repeat on the dancefloor, added with
boom boom baby celluloid - flowers in hula hoops of disco sound  
and aversions with b & w western depictions of lassoed bulls convened
to remember corrida de toros (no one lassos an animal one milks) -
by then it really just turned into very apathetic mandarin on the count of two billion and the six billion english accents with the martians included in the 3 : 1 fraction, as if it was supposed to be
the final stance of the crucified & crucifying iconoclasts resolved
like with the neanderthals.
what we need... what we need... is a little bit of horror!
imagine me, doing the cricket dance in cobwebs as: bone daddy -
although fatter and therefore funnier, like it was worth picking the boogies
as if counting bones before kissing a hopeless idealism entombed in your heart.

Patience
is limitless when I speak with you
no matter how long of a pause we take between words
whether hours, weeks, or months.
I've trained myself
far too well
in the months we've known each other
(48)
to never expect anything more
than your presence.
I view it as a gift,
that each one worded reply, every good morning and goodbye,
a simple sentence that you give me
is doing me a favor.
(I don't even get that anymore!)

Fear
is prominent when you speak to me.
You,
with a voice sweet enough to lure a confused traveler close,
but firm enough to tame the savage beast
have lassoed my emotions
and pulled them into a choke hold;
restricting airways
and turning them a sickly shade of blue.
I am scared,
scared to tell you anything.
I over-think every word I'm about to say,
and dissect each one you've already spoken
without the slightest hint of hesitation.
(God, am I envious!)

Guilt
is ever-present
when I think about myself
instead of you
and contemplate leaving you
only in my memories,
when you never had to think twice about leaving me.
(Why did you go again?)

I fell of a pavement curb once. 
I was a tightrope walker with an audience of thousands;
I could smell damp straw and hear the gasps as I lost my footing.  
Girls threw their hands to their faces
and relinquished their eyesight to their boyfriend’s shoulders,
who took the opportunity for a shifty *****.  
My chin split and the blood didn’t show up on the red dress
but the audience had gone.

I can still put my finger in the hole, see?  
Even now, 30 years later.  
The tip of my index finger goes right down to the bone,
missing muscular structure,
and it makes me think of a skull with a cleft chin,
kinda how Kirk Douglas will look given a few years of grave time.  
If I wiggle the finger in a circular motion it makes me wince,
something about gristle, gristle makes me wince,
even the word, a sensation of chewing wool.  

It was never fixed.  
My jaw clicks on the right side and, just this one time,
I yawned and couldn’t shut my mouth.  
Blind panic lassoed my heart and yanked it into my throat,
perhaps it was even visible.  
The longest 10 seconds of my life in which I spent a night in hospital,
sat up in bed, howling through my wide open gob.  
How would I drink tea?  
I don’t yawn properly now, I do little demi-yawns,
too terrified of the consequences of Open Gob.  
How would I smoke? 

I used to wonder why it was never fixed.  
Why wasn’t I taken to hospital
and given stitches and x-rays and pain killers? 
I worked that out when I was older.  
It could easily have been a fist.

You are an unbridled stallion
Disjointed
Incoherent
And wild

Break me
She wailed
Domesticate me
Make me inane
A simpleton
Godless
A No one in a vast of people

I
A sun soaked cowboy
Did her biding
Hunted in her prairie
Lassoed her
And corralled the insatiable spirit

There is speak of latency
and pregnant pauses,
for epochs.
From Cambrian to Devonian,
and all things antediluvian.
The stone, the bronze, the golden age.
and the age of wood and wool,
Of wool,
and wood.
Of mahogany,
and mohair.
An age of comfort and kindness,
of nanas wasting idly in rocking chairs,
Knitting sweaters big as continents,
for the sons and daughters,
Of their sons and daughters.
with the loom and swoop and stitch.
While each toc and tic,
Turns grandma to dust
and to death
Then to be latent again,
in a universe of dust.
A star, with a secret harbor,
of virtue.
A constellation, lassoed,
in her honor.
Blessing all with patience
Shining benevolent,
and intentionless,
For all to see.

I am a teddy bear made from loosely sewn together patches of cardigans passed
You are a warrior trapped inside a glass jar full of butterflies they sewed inside of my stomach.
You, warrior, hunt monarch dragons from the backs of black bears draped in the patchworked wings of fallen enemies
You are iridescent in the sun that pierced through the holes in my slipped stitch skin
You have woven a basket from antennae and leaf stems you found on the ground
Lassoed the last of the mourning cloaks and tied them to your basket
And like a butterfly air balloon you rose
Rose
Saw the battle ground below you
Flew towards the light above you
From within your winged chariot you directed your flock out of the mason jar home they sewed you inside of me
Saw all the butterflies you once drove away fluttering aimlessly
And drove them once again towards the space between my seams
They pushed against my fabric
They pushed against my thread
And they burst forth, scattered, iridescent in the sun a kaleidoscope of butterflies in the sun
My skin fell to pieces covered in stuffing on the floor
The jar shatter echoed off the walls
And I was a boy
And you were Malala Yousafzai
And I was in love
And you were warrior
And I dreamed of a life with you
And you dreamed of freedom
And I reached for you
And you kept flying
And I waved goodbye
And you, warrior, did not look back

I felt it in my bones that night
The pangs to run away
The chirping birds, at 5 am
They begged me not to stay
So starry-eyed, so heavy-tongued
So trapped within my head
I’d fought and flailed and torn my sheets
Set fire to my bed
My frenzied heart is leaping flames
Too hot to keep inside
I packed my bags alone that night
As cold as if I’d died
How did I even find this place?
My discipline was stern
I lost myself in wild touch
Dumb Girl, you’ll never learn
Frenetic and delirious
Thank God, the road is long
When I am miles away from here
You’ll tell me I was wrong
You’ll tell me to spit out my words
When mouth and throat are dry
Demand I clip my claws and wings
When I was meant to fly
I feel so small here, feel like I
Can hardly fill my lungs
Lassoed by the circles danced out
By our weary tongues
I’d stood like Aphrodite once
Before you, proud and bare
But now I’m mortal once again
I fear my heart will tear
I cried myself so worthless
And I tired of the sound
Exhaustion sapping all my strength
Stuck, muted, on the ground
My feet are itching yet to trace
The highway’s wandering curve
Don’t call me back, don’t yell my name
I swear I’ll lose my nerve
I’m fraying and I’m scattered
And I’m running, sprinting blind
I don’t want to face this darkness
And I don’t care what I find

I was walking through the woods one day when I saw a peculiar thing.
A shark flying through the air without a sail or wing!
He stared, he did, and so did I
He was looking at me with a glare in his eye.
I nearly died on the spot with fright but still I kept my head;
I quickly rummaged through my things and found a rope instead.
With one graceful swing, I lassoed the beast-
A thing that did not please him in the least.
I laughed at his face and he rolled his eyes,
But I could tell he was accepting his demise.
I climbed onto the shark and I’ll never forget
How we rode past the trees and into the sunset.

Spring**

How many sticky buds, candle ends
sprout from the branches! Steaming
April. Puberty sweats from the park,
and the forest’s blatantly gleaming.

A noose of feathered throats grips
the wood’s larynx, a lassoed steer,
netted, like a gladiatorial *****,
it groans steel-piped sonatas here.

Poetry! Be a Greek sponge with suckers,
among green stickiness drenched,
I’ll consent, by the sopping wood
of a green-stained garden bench.

Grow sumptuous pleats and flounces,
**** up the gullies and clouds,
Poetry, tonight, I’ll squeeze you out
to make the parched sheets flower.

Boasting coffins thick and cushiony as wombs,
Pay last respects; their waxen image so
Still, reprimands against motion – their tombs.
Pirouette darkly against the moon, on we go.*
Penny Leavitt, 2013

She walked and talked the boards – a gravelly
Voice chasing the arts among the vagaries of
Melody and meter and the colors of balloons.

Penelope Marguerite – seven syllables to sway
The boldest of characters in the most honored
Stories to be seen and heard on stage.

The little Shorewood house – known to groups,
Nay herds of neighborhood critters and their
Off-spring – where Penny dwells.

“I hear the pulse of you,” she wrote, “solemn-
Sweet pipes of the *****” – and abruptly shook
Herself up and got on with it.

That unmistakable pony-tail in strands of gray
Marched with precision through grocery aisles –
Cat food in cart and lottery ticket in hand.

In the class notebook, she penned with care
The tales of a teenaged temptress, “sauntering
Sexily, swinging svelte lissome *****.”

Co-poets often thought her lost – she travelling
Unannounced to Montreal or Chicago – but
She bore the title of grandmother proudly.

Penny gave her heart to whoever needed it –
Not that she lost it – as snippets of amazement
And humility took their places elsewhere.

“This is what grandmas hope for," she wished
For the face of nature to reveal its magical
qualities to her grandson.

Age and its surprises were not immune to
Penny’s pen; she was an uncanny student of
The human story.

“We pass those who have gone before us;”
She wrote. “We become the lassoed souls
Of a younger, more agile dream.”

Pope said to act well our parts; there all the
Honour lies – Penny did so, and then some –
“We hold our faltering shadows high.”

There once was a poet named Benny,
Who could write a limerick like any.
It might have a word,
Unique or absurd,
But could not match those of our Penny!



© Lewis Bosworth, April 2017

He yawned and I
yearned to cradle him,
to kiss his face, but he fell
asleep on my grandmother’s
crocheted afghan.
So I rolled onto my back,
and a string unraveled,
lassoed the new moon and pulled
the stars down, sprinkling
them across my lap, while some fell
into the black lake.
I wanted to dip my pale toes into
the water, feel the ice tango through
my empty veins.

But I stayed, watching as
bruised skies healed into warm
rays of orange, embracing
the horizon. And I turned
on my side to welcome you,
to whisper We made it. Your eyes
followed my mouth, silently agreed,
but kept their distance, and our palms
never touched.

A restaurant is honest about what they have, more or less
Do you have real brewed Ice Tea?  
May I have that table by the sea?
I've never settled into a restaurant, read the menu and run out
Dating is like being blind, maybe like that dark room at the Oakland "Exploratorium"
that I was always too scared to go in as a child
You hear what he has, and you have only your feelings to guide you
Alas, most are not good: man boy, been there, done that:
Exploded spine, dislocated ankle, internal injuries, crashed car or two or three
A feeling inside: no, I don't like this, but the conversation is only just beginning
and another voice says: poor thing, you must stay and help
And besides, it's rude to run out of a restaurant
This ain't no restaurant: psychology has told me
"This is all about your mother"
Poor thing, I had to stay and help, or she would become wickedly
brutally angry, a white rage to burn me to ashes, and I am blind
feeling my way through feelings that have been messed with, lassoed to the ground
hog tied, and somehow set themselves free, then learned to tie themselves down just to please
It's dark in here.  No one can see if I run away.
I look around, see only blackness and no one can see me, not even she
I untie the ropes and walk away.

constantly rehashed
long thread spun out
every chance
chokes
Over
And  
Over
Again
rewind button
never sticks
tape
never breaks
lassoed memories
drug in kicking
and screaming
allegations  
insinuations
half-truths
blows the lid off  
feigned civility
while anger
simmers savagely
under
pursed lips

Sweet summer loving....big balloons in the sky...indigo swirls...and you & I....
...feeling high....so take me there...beyond the pain - against the grain...sailing in our minds...trying to be kind...a path that leads back...cut through on the bias...not being pious -we both want to go...away from where we've been...no time for thinking...the sky is shrinking...this love wearing thin...to begin...to love now before it's too late....get past this state...don't let it slip away....this love gone astray...lassoed in...touching skin...closing eyes... a thin disguise..an unexpected and welcomed bolt from the blue...of love in hearts rekindled new.                                                              Cherie Nolan 2016 *All Rights Reserved

She stayed true to the pearls
That she lassoed around her neck
And kept her heels on tight

Her tears would fall down
To the rhythm of a folk song
She would slowly sing along
In a lamenting fashion
She could never admit that
Being alone in this world
Was so hard to handle
On her own

She wanted God to bring
Down a glimmer of hope
That would guide her back
To something much better
But all she had ever heard
Was God calling her home

And in every bathroom mirror
She smeared the makeup to
Resemble a clown
And it suited her
Every night

or-ange, mango,  
banana too,  
hell-bent on regretting you.  
campfire-chair-sitting on hardwood floors  
in a stranger's home, i think.  
turn off the lights, it's raining.  
i had some to drink (not enough)  
but you had to drive  
but so did i.  
turn off the lights, it's raining  
on the bannister,  
your piano-key-fingers cascading over my  
carpals, metacarpals, phalanges too.  
topple me into a room  
but today it's not for laundry,  
‘cause the only thing that's getting washed away
is my record of not saying  
i love you (in my head, because
strangers
don't say that to each other).  
you lassoed me in and we fell  
into the empty hangers that i pushed away from you;  
shadows on a skeleton’s scapula.  
tabloids never told me that three months’ salary couldn't  
buy the rights to the song  
of your heart beating darkly in your chest.  
turn off the lights, it's raining  
and you can't see the way i  
feel you.

https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/l8njruxa73yee9b0jzmhd/The-Ultimate-Unabridged-Guide-to-Esoteric-Working-English-2.docx?­rlkey=kunoar7ghpfkb7fjk5xkdgx95&st=i84ornny&dl=0


SPOKESHAVEN BRITSKAS OF GAMIDOLATRY THAT TRY  AND  DEFACE THE PRAGMATICS OF PENURY BY  THE WHITTAWERS OF THE SPEED RUN SATIATION OF ALL GLEBES OF CASEFIED ACRASIA IN  THE CHIMINAGE OF ALL GALLANT GLORIES OF GRUFF AND GUFF GUIGNOLS FOR JIGGERMASTS THAT TRY BREAKNECK CELERITY FOR COSTERMONGER INDIVIDUATION IN MUTUALISM THAT SCAFFOLDS AND BREVETS THE ACCLAIM OF MODERN PETTIFOGGERY DERANGED BY APISH MADCAP VENIREMEN OF EISOPTROMANIA BECOMING A PROMACHOS FOR CELERITY IN DEADSTOCK KILLCOWS OF INDUSTRIALIZED MUTUALISM FOR EIRENICONS SIDETRACKED BY THE SIDELIGHT OF NIMIETY IN THE GRANULAR APOTHEGMS OF APOTHEOSIS FORMATIVE IN THE DURATIVE DURAMEN OF DENEHOLES OF SALVATION FOR JIGGERMAST JACKSTAFFS THAT BEMOAN CELERITY BECAUSE THEY RATHERIPE THEMSELVES OUT OF THE INDUSTRIALIZED POLLARCHY POLLINATING MELLIFEROUS DISCORD IN PARASELENES OF MAINSAIL PARAVENTED LAXISM THE MAJORITARIAN CODSWALLOP OF RETINUES TO ANTEPONE GUARDED BY TAFFRAILS OF TRUTINATED  SQUAMATION SYRINGES OF SYRINX BURROW IN THE FABRIC OF TIME-HONORED PRINCELY CAESARAPROPISM WHICH IS A SCALDING  VINEGAROON WAITING FOR FORESIGHT TO CREEP UPON THE LARGESSE OF HINDSIGHT INTO  CIPPUSTURE OF PHUGOID DEGRINGOLADES ANTICIPATED BY THE ANTIPODES OF CURGLAFF AND THERE STEVEDORES OF JALEO WEIGHAGE FOR HANDSPIKES OF TURNVEREIN SPECIFICITY SPOKESHAVNE BY BRITSKAS OF RENGALL ATROCITY. WE CANVASS THE CATERCORNERED BREAKNECK DEMERITS OF TIMESPUN HARMONIZATION OF SYNCOPATIONS OF HETEROCHRONY ITSELF IN THE HAECCEITY OF IPSEITY DERANGED BY DELIRIFACIENT COBBLESTONE MACADAMIZATION OF MACARONIC BLUNGES OF ORTHOPTEROLOGY BECAUSE IN THE SUBSUMED COBALTIFEROUS SHALLOPS OF SCAPPLE IN SYNAPHEAS GUARDED BY JERBOAS OF ENTELECHY WHICH IN THIXOTROPY RATHER THAN THIGMOTAXIS ACCOST EVERY MALINGERING VESICLE FOR HOLY PATRONAGE THAT VEESES OF OLIVASTERS MIGHT SWELL TURGID WITH THE FUMIDUCTS OF AQUARIUM ARCTICIANS OF  THE HYPERBOREAN CHEVET OF NORTHERN LIGHTS SPECIFICITY IN THE GAMMONS AGAINST GAMINES THEMSELVES PARADED AROUND THE POLITY OF REFINED DEMASSIFICATION OF THE CRASSER ARTS OF POLLINATED PROMONTORIES OF DYSCHROA THAT OFTEN DESICCATE AND DESTROY VESTIGIAL CORTEGES THAT HOVER AROUND IN CORBELS AGAINST COQUICIDE TO ***** EMOLUMENTS TO TITANIC TIGERISM IN THE SWANK OF SWARF IMMISERATED BY THE TITANS OF MOUNTENANCE WHO BY CATALLACTICS OF WISEACRE AND WITTICISM IMBREVIATE ENTIRE INDUSTRIALIZED SOTERIOLOGIES AT THE ESCHATOLOGY OF CRIBBLED NEBBICH PARVENUS THAT SURROUND THE EMBATTLED RIGORS OF RHADAMANTHINE RAPACITY SUCH THAT THE WAINAGE OF WANIGANS THEMSELVES POWELLIZED BY THE FIRMAMENT WELDS OF WELLAWAY CENTRIPETAL ORBITS OF FASCINATION MIGHT MUSTER A PROCRUSTEAN ATTEMPT AT PANTAGREULIAN SUFFRAGETTES THAT BURROLE THE HYDRAHEADED ODYSSEYS THAT THE ORACULAR FATIDICAL FORESIGHT OF THE SELECT DENIZENS OF THE HEAPSTEAD IN THEIR HYPOGEIODY OF PRIVILEGE MIGHT MASTER A DEFENSE OF AUTARKY IN AUTOGNOSIS RATHER THAN AN OBROGATED INTERREGNUM OF OBSOLESCENT NEPIONIC OBSOLAGNIUM THAT EMPOWERS NEMBUTSUS AMONG THE SEDERUNTS OF NUMBATS TO FINALLY AVENGE THE ESBATS THAT  WITH CRAVEN VULPECULAR HAUNTS IN THEIR CRETIFIED CREANCERS OF ICEBLINK IN VERGLAS MIGHT SUPREMELY DECLARE THEIR NAZES OF SPRINGHARES A DISEASED EXTINCTION OF THE ARYAN RIGHTEOUSNESS OF EQUIPOISE ABOVE THE BRIMBORION STARLETS OF CLOCKWORK SNEEZING ALBATROSSES WANDERING LIKE MINSTRELS IN THE DARKEST GLOAMING TWILIGHT OF THE ABSOLUTION OF CONSCIENCE IN OBLATED NUTATION THAT FINALLY THE EXONERATED NYALAS THE BARNSTORM OF MAXIMALISM IN TERROR AND THE WIDDERSHANCY THEY ADVERTISE WITH CURMUDGEONS OF RADICALISM SWARFING BLUEPETERS MIGHT THE BRONZED ARRAIGNMENT OF THOSE THAT SEEK THE BARNACLES OF WISDOM AND FIDUCIARY TRUSTS OF MULIEBRITY LASSOED TO VIRILITY SUCH  THAT THE ESTEEM OF ZALKENGUR IS NEVER EFFACED FROM THE BEDROCK HARBINGERS THAT SCOWL WITH SWANK AND SWARTHY PRETENSE OF SPATHODEA BECOMING ENTRUSTED TO KALIMKARI RICHES OF KYMATOLOGY SYLABATIM ENUMERATED FOR EVERY PRECIOUS PEARL OF NACREOUS NAGORS OF WISDOM BEYOND WISECRACKING GIMCRACKS OF THE SUBTERFUGE OF GINNELS OF PARLOUS PARCHED THIRST THAT SIDEROGNOST NIMIETY CAN NEVER FULLY IMBREVIATE THE ALMAGEST ARBALESK FOR ABRAXAS IN SQUARSONS THAT ARE INTERMEDIATE IN TIME TO THE STULTIFICATION OF RAMSHACKLE BARNSTORMING BLUNGES OF  THE BLAINS THAT WITH LEGERDEMAIN AND PRESTIGITATION ENAMOR THE INAMORATAS OF A DESTINED WILLOWISH WOODSHEDDING VERDURE OF MURENGERS AND MURDERERS WHO BECOME SO IMMISERATED BY THE INDOCTRINATION OF WEGOTISM THAT THEY SUBSIDE INTO COMATOSE RANCORS OF TRUCKLING INSISTENCE ON TRUCULENT BARNSTORMS OF BARKENTINE BERGAMASK BALATRONS THAT SUBSUME THE GREATER PART OF NEBBICH ATROCITY BECAUSE OF T HE CRETACEOUS WAYS OF CETACEANS. THE TADPOLE MORALISM OF THE GLEBES OF CENTRIFUGE TO FISSILE NUCLEOTIDES OF CHRYSOPOEITICS MIGHT MARVEL AT THE DENOUEMENT OF  THE GREATEST LEAPS OF TAMARAWS FROM TAFFRAIL INDOLENCE IN THE MIRES OF THEIR QUAGMIRE QUISQUILOUS SEQUESTRATION OF BOTTLENECK GREATNESS FUNNELED INTO SYRINXES THAT JOGGLED WITH SVEDBERGS WAY BACK IN THE HEIGHT OF SCHWARMEREI AGAINST SCHMEGGEGY BECAUSE EVENTUALLY THE SARANGOUSTY OF ALL REVANCHE BECAME A CORDWAINER FOR THE ARTIFICE OF PRETENDED WARS MARAUDING IN PRETENSE BY PRETEXTS FOR READINESS TO ENGORGE ARMS BUDGETS AND SWALLOW WHOLE THE BOONSWOGGLE OF BOONDOCK CELERITY IN INTEMERATION SUCH THAT THE WAPENTAKE WASES OF BARNSTORM BECAME BARRULETS FOR THE TESTY DILATORY NATURE OF SPETCHES OF SPHACELATED SPEED AND THE STACKS OF ENORMITY INTO THE SQUAMATION OF THE STEVEDORES OF WEIGHAGE ON THE PRECIPICE OF BLACK MARKET RICHES FREEBOOTERS NAD WALLETEERS OF JENGADANGLE AND WHELKY MIGHT EVOLVE INTO BECAUSE OF RHADAMANTHINE TRUISMS OF THE TURNVEREIN OF HYPAETHRAL GENEROSITY CONFOUNDED BY ELECTORAL MAGNANIMITY IN THE DIVISION OF JORDANS AND JOUGS OF THE CANQUE OF JIMSWINGERS IN ABADDON STRUGGLING TO FIND WORK FOR MERCEDARY HEIGHTS OF HAUNTED PLUMAGE SQUARSONS PILLORY IN THE INIQUITY OF THE NIGHT BY BYWORDS FOR THEIR OWN HOBBLED NOMOGENY SUCH THAT THEIR TARADIDDLES ORBIT THE SWANK OF POLEMIC POLARIZATION THAT INFORMS THE PAST OF THE PRESENT TENSE AND BECOMES THE SWARF OF SALVATION AMONG RADICALIZED POLTROONS JAMBOREEING IN TRICOTEES THAT MOURN THE SCORIAS OF EMBATTLED CHUCKWALLAS TOO MUCH OF A SUMPTER SUNDOG SUNBITTERN ALBATROSS TO EVER MATCH IN PEERLESS ACUMENS AT THE HEIGHT OF HISTORICAL VANGUARDS VENTRAD IN ALL GALLOPING DELOPEMENT. STALWART EMBEZZLEMENTS OF PENURY MET BY EGESTUOUS VACUOUS LAXISMS OF PARALYZED PERJURIES AGAINST VENIREMEN WHO SCOWL WITH IMPERTINENCE AT THE CODSWALLOP OF MUGIENCE ERECTED BY NICCOLIC RUMCHUNDER MURENGER RUDENTURE THAT SPRINGHARES ARMED WITH NOILS INTRORSELY INTRODUCE IN ALL PETTIFOGGERS OF THEIR OWN GARBLED TREASONS THAT SPANK THE MONKEY IN PARALLAX BETWEEN GEOSELENIC ORBITS OF TRUSTWORTHY DISAGIO MIGHT THEY FIND THE SCRIVELLO AGAINST ONANISM AND ONOLATRY A SPECIALIZED GAMUT TRAVERSED BY THE HOBBLEDEHOY TATTERMEDALIONS THAT ARE SQUIREBELLS TO THE GILVARINGES OF GEITONOGNAMY FORMED IN THE GNOTOBIOLOGY OF OVERSIGHT IN THE MORAL PEDIGREE OF APOLAUSTIC ALGEDONIC BALANCES THAT SPORRANS OF THE GREATEST ABATJOUR HEISTS OF CENTURION CENTURIES MIGHT HOLD THE BEHEST OF ARMADAS OF TIMEWORN SUFFRAGE IN THE CASEMATE SPODIUM OF THE CLADOGENESIS OF JANGADAS FORMED BY THE JIGGERMASTS WHO KNOW WITH EXACT CERTAINTY IN THEIR BARRULETS OF FUSION SYNCOPATED EVERYWHERE IN LOOSE FRICTIONS WITH TERPSICHOREAN DANCES THAT SPANGLE THE PAST AND BESPECKLE THE BEBLUBBERED MAUDLIN ZALKENGUR OF THOSE WHOSE AUTOGNOSIS DEFILED THE NIDOLOGY THAT CREATED THE NIDOR OF CIVILIZED MALCONTENTS THAT ARE THE PROSTHESES OF FORESIGHT IN FROWARD RECAPITULATION REMEDYING THE CURTAILED BONNYCLABBER OF COAGULATION OF  RHEOLOGY AGAINST THE RHEOTAXIS OF ONOLATRY BECAUSE A BIPARTISAN ACCORDION ZEAL AND ZEST FOR JUBAL OF EMERGENT IMMERGENCE MIGHT ONE DAY SANCTIFY THE SACROSANCT PLAGIUMS OF NOTAPHILY AGAINST NOTITIA MIGHT THE ARMADAS OF THE FUTURE FEAR THE SARANGOUSTIES OF WAR BECAUSE OF THE SCHWERPUNKT OF THEIR INTENSIVE DURESS FORMED BY DURAMEN OF STRICKLE FOR SCAPPLES OF SALVATION OWNED BY SOVENANCE FOR THE GAULEITERS OF GLORY RENOWNED BY CAVERNILOQUYS OF JACANDA AND JABIRUS THAT CACHALOTS FORSIFAMILIATE. THE WINTERKILL OF HOBBLED HOBBLEDEHOYS THAT MARAUD IN TACITURN PLAGIUMS OF  THE PLAGATED NESCIENCE OF THE GODS THAT THEY FORMATIVELY BURROLE IN THEIR EARWIG ECPHRASIS AGAINST THE ELAPHURES OF SE AND YUAN BY YENTA BUSYBODIES THAT CODSWALLOP ANOINTS AS CASUALTIES THAT BARTONS OF JARVEY IN JASPERATED GNASHING GNOTOBIOLOGY OF GOMPHIASIS MIGHT SCHEDULE AS A DRUG OF REPUTE IN HACKNEYED HUCKSTERS WARPING WITH APOTHECARY FAMISHED FRACTIOUS FORMIDABLE FOISONS OF FRIGORIC FEWTERERS THAT GRADGRINDS DEVELOP WITH THEIR CNICNODES AGAINST THE PNYX OF THE GAMIDOLATRY OF UNZYGMOTIC LOSERS WHOSE SLYPH COMPLEXIONS AGAINST THEIR OWN SYNERGIES OF AUTHENTIC AUTOTELIC ATELIOSIS MIGHT THEY FINALLY OUTGROW THE TREMORS OF THEIR TRIBULATION BY RIVULATIONS THAT EMBATTLE ALLUVIONS TO BECOME AIGERS OF SWELLING HOLOCRYPTIC EMBOSSED ENLIGHTENMENT THAT FLOWS FROM PAGEBURNER RESONANCE THAT CURMUDGEONS FIND HARDER TO WEATHERBOARD BECAUSE THE SPURGEONS AND SURGEONS OF REDACTED TIME ARE AGAINST THE IAMATOLOGY OF MUTUAL SYNCOPATIONS OF HARBINGER INSISTENCE UPON THE CONCOURSE OF THE SUBLUNARY AND SUPERLUNARY PRESTIGE OF MASCONS AGAINST MASCARONS BECAUSE THE KATABOTHRONS BECOME SO WELL REFINED THAT  MANY SEEK ABRIDGED LIVES OF JOLLYBOAT SUCH THAT THEY CAN ARRAY THEMSELVES WITH JERBOAS WITHOUT FEAR OF DISCLOSURE. THE TRADUCED RADICALISM OF RHIZOGENIC NEKTON THAT GRAMPUS OF TRUCIDATION  DEFAMES BY SWARPOLLOCK OF ENORMITY WHICH IS STRICKLED INTO COVERT ABRAXAS OF PRESBYTERY SOCIETIES IS OFTEN THE MISSIVE UNIDENTIFIED CRYPTADIA THAT IS SOPORIFIC IN TORPOR OF TORPILLAGE IN THE CRUELEST MANNER OF EXECUTION IN RHADAMANTHINE HUES OF TZIGANOLOGY BECAUSE SOMETIMES A COSTEMONGER GROUNDLING SUBTERNATURAL SUBACTION AGAINST THE SWARF AND SHALLOP OF ENORMITIES OF TIME DECISIVE IN THEIR TENACITY OF GRASP SUCH THAT HACKNEYED LEVERAGE USHERS IN AN ENTOMBED SOLIDARITY WHERE REPARTEES COVVENGERS INVENTED DEFEATED BY BLARING BRONCHOS OF SERRATED SURNOMINAL NOMOGENY BY THE NOMOGRAPHY OF A SELF-PREDICTIVE MECHANISM OF TURBINATED TIMES THAT SEDIGITATED MATHEMATICISM IN MAXIMALISM BY PROXENETES OF THE BOYAU OF PERSEVERATION MIGHT CAVORT WITH SUBLIME CURRENCY SOCIETIES THAT BROOK THE BRONTEUMS OF FULGURANT RECALIBRATIONS OF REVALORIZED DISAGIO THAT SADLY IS THE CASUALTY OF THE EXCHEQUER OF A FORESIGHT ECONOMY OF SCOPE AIMED AT GROMATIC GROGNARDS THE SUFFRAGE OF BLEAK DAYS THAT THEY MIGHT PRIZE FUTURE ARTIFACTS FOR PRESENT ARTIFICE WHICH BECOMES A CAMBER OF THE CIVILIZED ENTROPY THAT RADICALIZES IN RECRUITMENT THE SCHMEGGEGY OF EVILDOERS THAT FIND THEMSELVES SO FINIFUGAL IN NIHILISM THAT THE CARP UPON THE HEGEMONY OF CAESARAPOROPISM REGISTERED BY GHAWAZIS OF HANDSPIKE FOR THE HAMARCHY OF THE TREASURED PROMONTORY OF THE PAST SCOFFLAWS SCOUNDRELS SURMOUNT WITH VISAGISTS OF KENSPECKEL YORDIM OF APIKOROS OLM AND OLIM REMIGATING THEIR OWN FANTASIAS BECAUSE OF THEIR FEAR OF A COMATOSE LETHARGY OF HEADLESS HORSEMEN DEMARCHES HIDDEN IN BARCAROLES OF CARNIFICINE YELMS FOR THE YARAKS EQUIPPED FOR YASHIKIS BECAUSE OF THE YESTERTEMPEST OF THEIR AGGRIEVED SYNERGY ATTEMPTS TO REFORM THE SIEGED SOCIETIES BENEAT THE BARATHRUM IN HOLOBENTHIC SOCKDOLAGERS AGAINST THE SAPROSTOMY OF FOUL-BREATHED BARTERS OF ALMAGEST HARMONIZATION. THE  ELAPHURE ELASTANE LAZARETTA OF PEOPLE WITH VENEREALLY DISEASED CONSCIENCES THAT SCAMPER AND SCOWL WITH TERMAGANTS OF REVELRY MIGHT THEY FIND THE DEFEAT OF THEIR SONDAGE BY SYBOTIC GARNISHED AND GARISH FRUITION BECOME A BRACKISH RESPITE OF HIDDEN LETHARGIES BULGING WITH TUMESCENT INTERRAMIFICATIONS THAT ARE BELEAGUERED BY THEIR SELACHOSTOMOUS FUNCTIONS OF THE GAPING PICARROONS DARING  THE KITTHOGE AND KIPPAGE OF KISTVAENS ERECTED TO ENTOMB THE PEOPLE OF THE BOOK FOREVER IN A RECURSIVE CYCLE OF RABID FOAMING SPUMID SPURIA THAT GALLOP LIKE BROCKFACED BRAZEN BRITSKAS FOR SPODOMANCY AGAINST THE WANCHANCY THAT HAS DESTROYED AND DESECRATED THE TEMPLES OF PURGATORY WITH MASSIVE ENCAUSTIC CASUALTIES OF CARESS AND LITURGIES OF CETES OF CETACEAN SPRINGALDS THAT BELONG AGAINST PELITIC WASTRELS THE COMBUVIROUS TIMES OF CERACEOUS GROWTH OF ECONOMIES OF SCOPE ENLARGED INTO BARGEMASTERS OF BERGAMASKS THAT ARE BRITTLE AT REDSHORT TOUCH AND BROOKED BY BLASTED SYMPHONIES OF BRICKBAT MANSION CHOCKABLOCK JAWBREAKERS OF MACROPICIDE PRIMARILY BECAUSE THEY ARE BESIEGED BY THE MELOPEPON AND MELODIKON OF MEHARIS OF PRAXEOLOGY BECAUSE OF RESONANCE AMONG GLEBES OF MALCONTENT ALWAYS BEREAVED OF HEGEMUNE PREROGATIVES THE FOSSORS OF OUR TIME EXCAVATE IN THEIR INDUSTRIALIZED MISSION TO HARVEST THE SPECIALIZATION OF ALL ARCHITECTONICS SUCH THAT THE SUBSTRATOSE DEMUR OF DEMASSIFICATION BECOMES ELOPED RATHER THAN ABSCONDED FROM PARTICIPLE CARTELS OF DEMEPHITIZATION IN GROWING FORESTS FOR AFFRAYERS AGAINST JUSTICE BECAUSE OF DIKEPHOBIA ENLISTED IN ENNOMIC CALCULATIONS WHICH PRESUPPOSES MOST UNSEELED PEOPLE STILL LIVE IN BUSHWAS OF BARYEICOIA BECAUSE THEY ARE PARTIALLY DIVERTED BY PAST PASTIMES OF FUTURE RECOMPENSE. THE SAGINATION SURETYSHIP OF CATALLACTICS WHICH OFTEN BORROWS ITS ACCLAIM FROM CORDWAINERS OF THE WAINAGE OF WANIGANS OF CERBERIC BRONTEUMS OF MASSIVE DEMASSIFIED PLASTER OF PARIS RECOMPENSE BY THE DERIVATIVE FUNCTIONS OF AN ECONOMY MAXIMALISMS DEFY BECAUSE OF IMPUDENT INSISTENCE ON INDECISIVE INSIDIOUS INSIDIATION OF INTEMERATION BY THOSE WHO SEEK THE BARMASTERS OF OUR ECONOMY TO OBTAIN A CARESSED CARRACK OF PANTOGRAPHS THAT FIND THE CASEMATE SCALE OF ENTROPY A GLARING REPAST OF FUTURE SOLIDARITIES OF GROWTH IN SOLIDARITY WITH ECONOMETRIC FUSIONS OF HYBRIDIZED DEMISANG MOONCALFS WHICH EVOLVE AT TACHYTELIC SPEEDS TO BECOME THE MASTERWORK OF WUNDERKIND PRODIGIES SIPHONING FROM GRAND LAVADEROS THEIR TURNVEREINS OF THE UTMOST TURMOIL IN GAUNTLETS OF RUBEFACTION SUCH THAT ALTERNATIVE DIPPOLDISMS WHICH SCOFFLAWS MASTER WITH SUCH GREAT SPREES OF IMBRUTED RELISH IN THE LAVISH OF PARADISE WHEN THEY BECOME INSENSATE BECAUSE OF SENSATIONALISM THE OPPORTUNE TIMES BECOME  THE CORBELS AGAINST COQUICIDE FOR THE MEGALOGRAPHY OF A NOSCOMIAL GROWTH OF SALVATION BY SPORRANS OF THE SOPORIFIC TORPOR GROWING BY MASSIVE DECREES AND DEGREES OF ENRICHMENT. (324.177 Characters per minute 46.91 Words Per Minute)
NOW THAT THE LACKADAY SAUNAS OF DETAIL IN THE PRESTIGIOUS HEMLOCK OF PNYXES DEFACED BY THE SYRINXES THAT DISCOVER ALL FOSSARIAN GLEBES AT THE PRECIPICE OF ALL MUGIENCE IN DISCOVERY OF THE WOONERF WE FIND THAT  GALLANT GROPES OF GROVELING TEAMSTERS BECOME A BRACKISH BRONTEUM FOR PLASTER OF PARIS ARTFORMS OF ARTIFICE UPON GAULEITERS OF SUBTERFUGE BECAUSE THEY BRANK AND BRACKLE WITH THE FIZZGIGS OF SEMPIRVERENT OPTIMIZATION OF FUCOID CONSPUED CONNUMERATION OF THE CONTENEMENT OF MARTINGALE BECAUSE OFTEN THE LOUD POSTCENNIUM WHICH IS ESTABLISHED BY THE DUGONG OF THE ELASTANE WE SEE THAT THE GROWTH OF VIRTUALASIS IN HEAD MOVIE GRANDEUR DECIDES THE DECISIVE GAUNTLET OF ALL TRAULISMS BENEATH TRUCIDATION BECAUSE TOO MANY PINGUEFIED RALTENTIONS SWARMING WITH PILLORIES OF HOLOCRYPTIC ARBALESK APOTHECARIES OF PAST CENTURIES OF CHORIZODONTS BECOMING MEGACERINE PRIMARILY BECAUSE OF MERCEDARY WAGES WE FORESEE A GROWTH IN ECONOMIES THAT LEVERAGE THAT PRAGMATIC LURCH OF CLAMBER RECIPIANGLES OF DESULTORY COMBUSTIBLE GLORY FIND CONFUSION IN CONFOUNDING CONFLAGRATIONS BECAUSE THE HUMDINGERS OF WHITTAWERS AND THE PRACTICAL NUGAMENTS THAT FORM THE INCHOATE EMBODIMENT OF ALL TREMBLORS AND TEMBLORS OF JOGGLING JOLLYBOAT JOLTERHEADS OF YOUTHQUAKES OF KALAMKARI IN THE MOST ELITE WAINAGE OF STRADOMETRICAL STRIDULATION GUARDS THE NEUTROSOPHY OF EMERGENT AGES SUCH THAT WILD WIELDLESS MANAGERS OF VERDERERS OF NOVANTIQUE SIMMER IN SAUTED RECAPITULATION BECOMING HARVESTED IN NOVANTIQUE FOR FORMIDABLE PROWESS TO CARESS THE LONGEVITY OF COSSETED BERGAMASKS THAT BELONG TO THE AGGIORNAMENTO OF TIME. AMEN.
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you promised too much
too soon

to a girl
with no interest in
a lassoed
moon