"pittsburgh" poems
Ballerina stance leaner
porcelain poised demeanor
lined up for a chance at that old 500 gram repeater.
Yeah, a little firecracker,
a little fire eater.
Twiggy figure, ****** fire dome where her little wires teeter.
Excellent muse material
my ***** optics viewed ethereal
Beauty, and she knew it.
Arrogance.
Noted, duly.
Pittsburgh's resident fire ant, with a grace to match her face
And a whole crew of troglodytes racing to get a taste
So thanks Angela Chase;
I prefer the fantasy too.
And thanks to you my chickens won't be sleeping easy in their coup.
Loop Jabberwocky with Calligraphy
and dabbled in polygamy. purpose:
****** cyst bubbles to the surface.
Misinterpret the tongue touching and hand clutching,
you were baby girlie thumb-sucking
But thought more than twice about it when it came to dumb-fucking.
Pretty face: check
Depression: not yet
Appreciating phonemes, but still a nervous wreck
false carrot tops to bed, awkward with the ***** work.
Near waif redhead. Pittsburgh Boys. the city lurks
It's been a minute since the girl scouts got at me, I bought it.
Hop in the DeLorean tell Lauren that I'm off it.
Mar 16, 2010
Mar 16, 2010 at 2:47 PM UTC
The sun tipping over the horizon
Lifts my lids each revolution of this Shady green sphere...
And for a few brief seconds
The fingers of sleep
Drag me back.
Warm pressure on my eyes,
Pooling, (re)opening them to the last
Paradise;
The only oasis where your eyes are not closed
And your bones are not dust somewhere
Mingling with the soil in Pittsburgh.
Just the same, I know you're the product now
Of some hypnagogic state;
Of the last traces of theoretical DMT swirling in my brain
As is leaves Morpheus behind in the shadows.
You're just the most beautiful hallucination
The truth in the chaos of dreams
Cluing me into what I've been denying
For 13 years.
Impossible that I've preserved you better
Than any mortician could have
In the recesses of my mind
You are a perfect replica
An unholy copy of the original
All creamy skin
And ocean eyes,
Full-lipped smile tipping somewhere between
Arrogance and joy.
"I'm gone," you say. "I'm dead."
Repeating what I already know
"I'm dead, I'm not coming back."
On repeat like the worst kind of ear worm;
A carousel of sound that dips and weaves through every filament of Unconsciousness.
Denial; like reaching out my hands
I shove against the reality, against the unreality
Against the prison sleep has woven
And crash forth
Damp and gasping
Like breaking the surface once more
Teetering over the horizon with the sun
Into the waking hell of another day.
The carousel makes another revolution.
See you on the other side tonight.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 10:08 AM UTC
Forthcome that which has no meaning
beyond the petty dreamings of a fool.
Trickled thoughts walk off mid-conversation
with strangers into the vanishing
managing to forget that I forgot them first
way before they wandered off
to inhabit the earth
but that's just me being hipster,
rather be in Pittsburgh
because New York,
too contemporary.
Very hedonistic with a lack of trajectory
or am I projecting to protect me
from an existential vasectomy.
Maybe
I'm afraid I can't make it here
Maybe
I think I drink too much beer
and Baby
I should have been more clear
I am scared
I am scared
I am scared of being a failure
and I don't even know
what the **** failure is
or what one even looks like
because every time I think I've met one
they've taught me something about my life
half the the high school teachers
across this country couldn't.
My home
has taken their lives,
my passion and my poisons
have made it hard to get by
and my parents
have worked and will mostly likely die
holding on to concept I now perceive as a lie
That's why I so badly wanna believe in nothing
but I keep falling head over heels
cartoon like slips on banana peels
Women; smart enough
to know a poet is a bad deal
but I still do it 3, 4 times a day
I let someone inside
and we'll make love
with words and thoughts
we'll tell each other what we dream of
and talk about the kinds of things
that can't be bought
cause those are the things that matter
at least to me.
But I guess
that's just me
being hipster
again.
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 1:19 PM UTC
Eratic Plastic Dysphemistic Euphemisms
the rain in Spain
falls mainly on the plain
while the dome in Rome
is a place to call home
and the gazoot in Beirut
is in cahoot
with the Neo in Reo
and his brother Theo
and Levi in Shanghai
munches blueberry pie
the roast on the coast
has been burnt like the toast
and my frog on the log
barks like a dog
its a pity how gritty
it is in ** Chi Minh City
never challange Mr Wong to play ping pong
in Hong Kong
or smoke a bowl with a mole
in old town Seoul
or the gendarme will storm
the crowd in Pittsburgh
Gomer LePoet...
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 11:33 AM UTC
I came up in Pittsburgh,
the Rust Belt of hard labor
with a deep love of community.
As children, we collected railroad spikes
from the tracks and we cut our shins
on random iron shards in **** hills.
Some of us were union middle-class
and others breathed the gray air of poverty.
That hardly mattered. As we stood atop
foothills that overlooked the city skyline,
soot embedded under our fingernails,
we lived as kings and queens
that oversaw the future.
-Ron Gavalik
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 2:18 PM UTC
a polar vortex
swirls eastward
on Siberian Tiger paws
bounding over
Appalachian Highlands
gobbling geography
gelling Great Lakes
spawning Erie blizzards
sculpting Wabash ice floes
clogging commerce all
along the Ohio River Valley
this voracious
juggernaut’s wide maw
bears icicle teeth
laughing as it swallows
Pittsburgh, Little Philly,
and a Big Apple, before
gorging itself on
generous portions
ladled into
simmering crocks
of steaming
Boston Baked Beans
growling
blue arctic
air blasts roar
bursts pipes
savages the heat
of blasting furnaces,
bubbling boilers, hot
belly stoves frantically
drinking oil, flaming gas
burning wood and
burping soot
the blistering
jet stream claws
screech a slashing
stratospheric hum
as Frigidaire blasts
swallows breath
brittles limbs
chafes cheeks
gnaws earlobes
crystallizes tears
nibbles nostrils
cubes snot
numbs toes
bites digits
diving sub zero
gradient subdues
batteries to
deaden states
delays buses
derails trains
cuts power
constricts veins
preys on
vagabonds
and animals
get the homeless
off the street!
bring the animals in
check on your
elderly neighbors
don’t get caught outside
and shut the **** door!
do you own stock
in the Public Service?
beware the polar vortex
and next months heating bill
Sonny Boy Williamson
& Otis Spann
Nine Below Zero
Oakland
1/6/14
jbm
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
I waited today for a freight train to pass.
Cattle cars with steers butting their horns against the
bars, went by.
And a half a dozen hoboes stood on bumpers between
cars.
Well, the cattle are respectable, I thought.
Every steer has its transportation paid for by the farmer
sending it to market,
While the hoboes are law-breakers in riding a railroad
train without a ticket.
It reminded me of ten days I spent in the Allegheny
County jail in Pittsburgh.
I got ten days even though I was a veteran of the
Spanish-American war.
Cooped in the same cell with me was an old man, a
bricklayer and a booze-fighter.
But it just happened he, too, was a veteran soldier, and
he had fought to preserve the Union and free the
*******
We were three in all, the other being a Lithuanian who
got drunk on pay day at the steel works and got to
fighting a policeman;
All the clothes he had was a shirt, pants and shoes--
somebody got his hat and coat and what money he
had left over when he got drunk.
2.4k
Last year's version of the mind-body problem:
my mind gives orders that my body won’t obey.
It’s a problem.
The body’s warranty has expired and
spare parts are scarce. Plastic tubes
To help me drain have become part of my day.
So there’s still a will. But sometimes no way.
I am now my sister’s age when she died.
And some nights
as I lie down in darkness
there’s a moment of wondering
could this be the night
of the Great Reckoning
when everything I’ve said and done
goes mute and I am gone.
And crawling over me like a slow stain
is dread that everything important in life
has already happened. I remember some days
less than my dreams.
But friend, not this tone!
Let us write a history of now.
Body and soul, stand up and shout
“Baseball road trip!”
Car: check. Best friend: check. Nostalgia for a simpler
time. We can fake that one.
The red zigzags on our map turn into places:
Six ballparks in a week.
Detroit haze, gasping Chicago wind,
Milwaukee self-serve micro brew
Cincinnati chili and watering eyes,
Cleveland’s defiant self-love,
Pittsburgh’s Primanti brothers monstrosity sandwich—
Burger, coleslaw, and fries on toast.
The American dream tastes like fast food,
But the mystery lives between the lines.
Thwack of fastball into catcher’s glove,
Whock! of line drive into the gap,
Ball rolling free across the green
While the runner speeds for home.
Home.
Let’s keep going, friend.
There’s another bridge up ahead and
a ballpark’s lights shining somewhere in the dusk
of the upper Midwest and the open road
unrolls toward the setting sun.
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 7:16 PM UTC
We pulled up in the drive way
If it weren't for my hello kitty flip flops, my feet would've melted into the cracks of the pavement.
Running up to ring the doorbell, and the smell of home rushing through my nose as I am greeted by hugs.
Kicking off my kicks, and letting the beige colored carpet mingle with the bottoms of my feet.
Leaping on to a couch that was stained with strawberry ice cream and memories.
The lace that trailed off the ends of the curtains danced as the breeze from an open winow came to say, "hello."
Splashing in a wading pool while grandma looked through Avon catalouges
sipping lemonade that we made prior, in a Disney Princess Sippy Cup.
I run up the stair into my room; sparkly purple bed sheets cover my bed and I crash.
All snuggled up in an ocean of blankets while everyone else watches the Steelers game downstairs.
As I dose off, half way through a dream filled with pink, grandpa woke me up; he said we were going out for ice cream!
I put on my favorite Little Mermaid shirt on and ran downstairs.
We all pile into an old BMW and start our journey to Sarris.
Nostalgia and city lights fill my eyes with wanderlust.
We park the car and rush to hop in line. When we order our ice cream we sit down in a red diner-hop booth.
Everyone together, MiMi, Papap, Mom, Dad, Victoria, Patty, G-G, and me.
And I don't know if it was eating powdered donuts on Sunday mornings
Or the way that Fresca tasted after eating a happy meal,
but visiting your house
in that small town in Pittsburgh
Is the only way that I can describe "home."
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 11:23 AM UTC
Not the drip of freeway from Pittsburgh but a rough trundle
on chalk roads as flaxen skies shade to molten celluloid
and I can still see them
flash in August fields like a crop of traffic lights
they flare as hay-bale paparazzi or
floaters in the humour and hang
careless in seasonable decadence
so I’ll pass from the frigid, processed air
and join them in their closeness.
No buzz but a minor hum coming from the
moment’s luminosity and then they’re gone
making good on thunder’s empty promise.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 7:11 PM UTC
If I had not met the red-haired boy whose father
had broken a leg parachuting into Provence
to join the resistance in the final stage of the war
and so had been killed there as the Germans were moving north
out of Italy and if the friend who was with him
as he was dying had not had an elder brother
who also died young quite differently in peacetime
leaving two children one of them with bad health
who had been kept out of school for a whole year by an illness
and if I had written anything else at the top
of the examination form where it said college
of your choice or if the questions that day had been
put differently and if a young woman in Kittanning
had not taught my father to drive at the age of twenty
so that he got the job with the pastor of the big church
in Pittsburgh where my mother was working and if
my mother had not lost both parents when she was a child
so that she had to go to her grandmother's in Pittsburgh
I would not have found myself on an iron cot
with my head by the fireplace of a stone farmhouse
that had stood empty since some time before I was born
I would not have traveled so far to lie shivering
with fever though I was wrapped in everything in the house
nor have watched the unctuous doctor hold up his needle
at the window in the rain light of October
I would not have seen through the cracked pane the darkening
valley and the river sliding past the amber mountains
nor have wakened hearing plums fall in the small hour
thinking I knew where I was as I heard them fall
1.8k
Eleven dead; six injured.
How does a person try to explain
The enormity of such a crime--
The inexplicable loss, the pain?
All were shot at a place of worship--
At a synagogue in Pittsburgh, P-A,
On what began as a peaceful morning
On a late October Sabbath day.
Early that morning no one could have
Imagined the horror the day would bring,
Even though we live in a time
When hatred seems to be in full swing.
It takes only ONE hater
To change the course of many lives
In a country where underneath
The peaceful appearance, violence thrives.
The president says that armed guards
Are what we need and not tougher laws.
He bows before the gun lobby,
Addressing the symptoms, but not the cause.
Helping refugees get settled:
For that the synagogue is known.
That was an issue that irked the killer,
Who was from here. Yes, homegrown!
Do we ignore red flag warnings
And turn our heads when someone spews
Hatred of groups such as Muslims,
Asylum seekers, gays, or Jews?
Do we ignore the poisonous words
That constantly drip down from the top?
At what point do the majority
Of people say: This must stop!
Give praise to those who strive for positive
Change with every heartfelt endeavor.
And hold in your heart the many people
Whose lives have now been changed forever.
_____________________
May the victims' lives inspire us all by showing us the power of love,
and may they rest in peace.
Joyce Fienberg
Richard Gottfried
Rose Mallinger
Jerry Rabinowitz
Cecil Rosenthal
David Rosenthal
Bernice Simon
Sylvan Simon
Daniel Stein
Melvin Wax
Irving Younger
And may thoughts of love and healing embrace the injured.
-by Bob B (10-28-18)
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 3:45 PM UTC
On opening day 2013
I wrote a poem
About my beloved
Pittsburgh Pirates
It's called Pirates Fan
That I am
I lamented twenty years
Of losing
And shined in optimism
That change was coming
It's now August
And the Buccos
Are in first place
Best record in baseball
Gearing up for
Playoffs in the fall
After twenty years
Of losing!!!
There is hope
For all losers
Keep grinding it out
One day you
May find yourself
In first place!!!
For the moment
We are
Number one!!!
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 8:13 PM UTC
Beloveds, now we know that we know nothing
Now that our bright and shining star can slip away from our fingertips like a puff of summer wind
Without notice, our dear love can escape our doting embrace
Sing our songs among the stars and and walk our dances across the face of the moon
In the instant we learn that Michael is gone we know nothing
No clocks can tell our time and no oceans can rush our tides
With the abrupt absence of our treasure
Though we our many, each of us is achingly alone
Piercingly alone
Only when we confess our confusion can we remember that he was a gift to us and we did have him
He came to us from the Creator, trailing creativity in abundance
Despite the anguish of life he was sheathed in mother love and family love and survived and did more than that
He thrived with passion and compassion, humor and style
We had him
Whether we knew who he was or did not know, he was ours and we were his
We had him
Beautiful, delighting our eyes
He raked his hat slant over his brow and took a pose on his toes for all of us and we laughed and stomped our feet for him
We were enchanted with his passion because he held nothing
He gave us all he had been given
Today in Tokyo, beneath the Eiffel Tower, in Ghana's Blackstar Square, in Johannesburg, in Pittsburgh, in Birmingham, Alabama and Birmingham England, we are missing Michael Jackson
But we do know that we had him
And we are the world.
Jan 6, 2010
Jan 6, 2010 at 10:37 AM UTC
This moment, I am God upon this town.
I compass every window spread below:
each pinprick point in total looking down
a pattern only overseers know.
I feel the human flow and ebb each minute
perceiving both with every passing breath;
each lighted room has home and hoping in it,
each darkening a sleeping, or a death.
And nothing, nothing makes it wait to darken;
had I the power it should be shining still.
Some other one you have to hope will hearken,
some other on some yet more lofty hill--
whom priests and people plead to, not to be
as powerless to hold these lights as me.
May 23, 2010
May 23, 2010 at 6:13 PM UTC
on this cloudless night
pushing through the Pittsburgh haze,
daring to present themselves,
entwined in cosmic tango, are
Jupiter and the Moon.
the bands play across a
diluted Jovian face. while the storm
rages on
the lunar rocks and craters,
perfectly visible imperfections,
cast petulant shadows -
reminding me that
from destruction one can
still find beauty.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 11:34 PM UTC
Build me like the city streets
Strap my bones to solemn steel
And give me an expression without inability
Prop me up like the towering buildings
And bend my back to the labors of industry
So that I might just understand
What it means to hear the steel heart beat
Let these words go out from here and heal
Let these voices reach and touch the meek
Let the rhythm within my soul preserve
And the minds amongst us finally meet
So that we could savor a moments peace
So that we could pad the snow laden ground
And meet where the steel heart slowly beats
For we are the blood within which seeps
As we rise to the surface quietly
Teeming with life and full of desire
To actively ponder and passionately seek
To understand the truth within
For we are a vessel most unique
To reach the travelers of time
And to mold such minds as they do sleep
For anytime such blood cells meet
The steel heart surely can be heard
In unison with every beat
Be it underneath these city streets
Let such an expression be heard by more than me
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
This city is drowning
not everywhere, not yet,
but I remember when the waters rose up
and swallowed Etna
Millvale
Girtys Run completely consumed
but I was fine
up on the cliff home
just watching
as homes became islands in the flood plane
the waters settled like glass
as silt sank to the bottom
where there should have been grass,
there were clouds
and it was beautiful.
But I remember after the water left
and the caked filth of the world stuck around
I never want it to happen again
but it will
the city is drowning
but we learned to swim
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 10:27 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Since when did she become
A ***** expert?
Her Facebook comments
Only served to hurt
She talked about us
Just like we were dirt
She lacks the knowledge
But her opinions remain inert
As an anchor of the nightly news
We thought she was objective
Despite her personal views
Which have proven quite subjective
Fortunately her employer’s
Action was corrective
And she was immediately fired
Once her comments were detected
How can she talk about
People she doesn’t know
That just goes to show you
How deep racism can go
Now she no longer has
Her own TV news show
And Pittsburgh’s better for it
As the fair-minded know
Tell me what qualified her
To be a ***** expert
With no ***** experience
For her to assert
Yet she chose a stereotype
To place us on alert
It had to be her own bias
She used to disconcert
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016. All rights reserved.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 10:15 AM UTC
Video phone, thank god for you
Because Missouri is the other side of the world
Because my new niece is there
Pittsburgh is too far away
A week is too long to wait to see you
flights and highways will be an eternity
but for now photos and videos will have to be enough
I just have a week to wait, but it’s not a year
Afghanistan IS the other side of the world
videos and pictures for a year, watching
the calendar slowly pass, a world away
my niece’s father will wait and watch and work
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 7:51 PM UTC
I am the mother of Andy Warhol.
Right from beginning, Andy was special.
When his brothers go to school, he
stay home with me. I like to draw
picture...and so did he. We even
draw picture of each other. I like
to draw cat a lot and so did he. When
he is little boy, I leave room for one
minute and he not there when I come
back. "Where is my Andek?" I ask.
"Where he go?" and everyone is laughing.
I know early on Andy not like other boys.
He go into town with me and pick out
hat for me. One time he pick out black
felt hat and then he go home and paint
edge of hat so it has gold edge. It look
beautiful. I also like to cut tin flowers
out of fruit tin cans and soup cans too.
And Andy always help me. Just a little
boy but he take after his Mom.
He was artist even then.
Long time go by and Andy become grown
man. I visit him in New York and tell
him he need me. Then I go back to
Pittsburgh but I miss him. I pack up
and come back to New York and move in
with him.
The first apartment we live in not very
nice, filled with cats and mice and
roaches. Cats everywhere. Once I count
twenty cats and still mice all over!
I go to gallery one night for opening
of Andy's first show. When I get there I
have odd feeling. People there they look
at me like I'm different, strange. I feel this
but no one say nothing to me. I think
they say things behind my back maybe.
You know what I mean? "Andy's Old Mom
with babushka is from Old Country." I
just stay in background all the time.
I no talk to nobody but Andy. I tell
him how proud I am and to do right
thing and find his ideas in dreams.
Those are my words. But I no go to no
other show of his work. Ever!
He is still good son to me always but he
worry too much about money. When I
move here he take me to Woolworth's
for Thanksgiving Day dinner. We sit at
counter and have turkey platter with
everything. It is not bad food but Andy
look so sad because he have no money
then. I tell him not to worry. "You will
be somebody someday. You are hard worker,"
I say. "Just wait. Be patient."
Even though I complain sometime, I like
my life here. I watch I Love Lucy show
on television. And people in New York
very friendly and everyone in apartment
building polite and helpful. I go to
big church - very nice - on 15th Street
and 2nd Avenue where I see all my friends
and every day I go to A&P; to buy food.
And I like Andy's friends. They kid with
me and tease me and I laugh. They know
I love my son and am good for him always.
Andy does get angry with me sometime.
He say I nag too much. I tell him he
no dress right. I tell him right out
that I only stay with him till he find
nice girl and get married. That is my
dream. Once he get married, I tell him
I go home to Pittsburgh. He never say
nothing when I bring this up. He is
good boy but moody, very moody sometime,
not a talker like his Mom, ya?
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 5:20 PM UTC
Je sais que vous venez ici pour votre dose quotidienne de mariages .mais je suis tout aussi certain que vous êtes ici pour votre dose quotidienne de plaisir aussi .Valerie Barnes film a livré .parce que le couple au centre de ce mariage a à la fois un amour et un bonheur qui sont contagieux !\u003cp\u003eS'il vous plaît mettre à jour votre browserColorsSeasonsFallSettingsBallroomHotelStylesTraditional
De la photographie .Même si Suzanne et Carl se sont réunis et maintenant résident à Boston .elle a choisi de se marier dans sa ville natale de Pittsburgh parce qu'elle voulait se marier à la cathédrale Saint- Paul .l'église où ses parents se sont mariés en 1972 . " Je ne peux pas attendre pourêtre dans cette église . C'est si beau . "
Quand elle a Carl à Pittsburgh pour la première fois.elle l'a emmené à l'église pour le mariage d'un cousin et lui dit: « Je vais me marier un jour dans cette église . "
Le matin du jour de son mariage .elle s'habillait à la maison de ses parents à Fox Chapel .Bien que sa robe a été conçu par Monique L'
huiller et ses chaussures par Badgley Mischka .at-elle ajouté quelques objets personnels pour compléter son look - le voile qu'elle portait était mariage voile de la mère et le bracelet qu'elle portait a également été emprunté à sa mère .
La réception de mariage a eu lieu à l' Hôtel Omni William Penn ." J'ai adoré qu'il était robe courte devant longue derriere au cœur du centre-ville de Pittsburgh et a également pensé qu'il était parfait pour la sensation de notre mariage . "la pensée de
Susanna de son mariage ." j'espère que notre mariage que nous sommes en mesure de tenir dans nos cœurs et nos esprits l'amour et de l'admiration et l'appréciation que robe de mariée 2014 nous avons les uns pour les autres aujourd'hui tous les jours .et que nous continuons de plus en plus non seulement commeindividus.mais comme un couple "
Photographie : Goldstein Photographie | vidéographie : . Valerie Barnes Film | planification de l'événement: Le groupe d'événements | Floral Design : Hepatica | Robe robe courte devant longue derriere de mariage: Monique Lhuillier | Gâteau : Vanille Pâtisserie | Cérémonie Lieu: Saint-Paulcathédrale | Réception Lieu: Omni William Penn | Chaussures : Badgley Mischka | Bijoux : Tiffany | Restauration : Omni William Penn | robes de demoiselles d'honneur ' \\ : Amsale | Linge de maison : linge de lit mosaïque | Tuxedo : Tophat TuxedoAmsale .Badgley Mischka et Monique Lhuillier sont membres de notre Look Book .Pour plus d'informations sur la façon dont les membres sont choisis .cliquez ici
http://modedomicile.com
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC
Dumbrowski was a 6 foot 5 giant
from some hell hole mining town
somewhere south of Pittsburgh.
All sinew and bulging muscle
he looked like a painting
of the perfect, invincible warrior.
Perhaps he heard the incoming
whistle of his private RPG.
He opened his arms as if
to welcome its deadly embrace.
I was circling low overhead
in the waiting medevac chopper.
The round took him directly in the chest.
Every part of him took off
in hilarious random directions.
Arms went east and west. Head skyward.
Legs and boots travelled south.
His entire thorax just vanished.
Blood, brains and skin
splattered everyone nearby.
Later we picked up the pieces
and bagged them for his ride home;
the torn shreds of a man who had been
human one minute and meat on the ground
just a few minutes later.
Invincibility is clearly relative.
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 8:57 AM UTC
President of the Republic of Germany's Presidential
Security Council President 150 (1973) (5) President.
This operation and her long legs in the stomach
of horses. This is very clear, especially
in Latin America, Europe, Russia and Spain,
and in Canada, the prostitutes and dogs
are essential for Mexico. 1, What are you doing?
According to Adam Clark, women in the São Samar
and all the Yogis are women, women
and children in Africa, Asia and South America,
Germany and England, Gilbert and George.
In the United States, Russia is good. Americans
want to live in Canada, and Great Britain.
About two thirds of Catholics in San Francisco,
China, Russia, South Korea, and the USA.
Then I'll enter the dogs. Type of songs not written 1.
Latin American products in Latin America.
Spain, Wales, bull by Alice. From the foundation
of the world, he was born in the largest area
of the world to study and study John's leaders.
I said. Out of control. There is no competition.
France, on the second day. In addition
to the prostitutes and the elderly Muslims,
in the windows they are given comfort
in adultery. Many companies in Jamaica
can express their feelings to Guinea.
These are green geese. His mother Mattie.
So Georgia. (5) It is important to add
the 1292 standard modes in the message,
and a TV show is found. Asian countries
in the Americas and Africa, African and Latin
American prostitutes, from Germany, Yugoslavia,
Denmark, prostitutes and more prostitutes.
Vegetables. In a comedy, Oustiin's family
are prostitutes and prostitutes; Within 150 hours
in the city, United Nations Security Council
(5), 1973 (1973), Executive Director (5).
The information is contained in the robot
robot center. Open the next part of the tree.
I also said in Pittsburgh: "You are not listening
to me,
as a ********** 1, a maid and a horse." This list
is incomplete. In the United States, Europe,
Russia, Spain, Canada and European slums,
old and advanced technologies. The items returned
to the Swiss Express Pond were from the port.
Of course, like a dog and others.
Prison or Russian court? There are many
benefits to Giza the Robot and Sarah
Barrow in the Middle Valley 2 to 2, 2.
In the Middle East, there are many benefits
for the team and many others. The fish
in the grass. There are waters in Latin
America, West Africa, Asia, the Congo,
England, Germany, and Assisi, which
are collected on the moon along
with different cultures of different breeds.
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 9:13 PM UTC
My best friend Steve
had a rat named Beulah
and although she wore the white pelt
and pert whiskers of a domestic pet
she never generated the heroics
of Disney’s menagerie;
rather, she’d
unwind her days doing a scurrying
hunch'n'hop
around the perimeter of the living room.
As a native Pittsburgh rat
Beulah escaped the bizarre fate
of her Baltimore cousins
who resided in neighborhoods
where the residents fished for rodents
using Kmart rods and big steel hooks
baited with cheese and rancid bacon.
Instead, she died rather mundanely
like many rats
at the end of her life's only adventure
fleeing the tame existence
of the living room
for the fresh air of the driveway
where the rear wheels
of Steve's dad's pickup truck
flattened and whirled
poor Beulah
in a counterclockwise
spinfest
of radial belted
frenzy
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 7:40 PM UTC