Lanny Quarles wrote:
sugar ray leonard nemoy perversely builds his nautilust from
the dismantled remains of the global war machine manta, a smoky
and gleeful pod of chimerical pines for a home, he reigns
as alphabeast over the tiny misbehaving island of Cyclopian Rocs
where once Sinbad sinned
Lanny Quarles wrote:
sugar ray robinson caruso
sugar ray robinson caruso
go to the lonely valley in your woven palm fedora!
go and sing the tenor part (of Fedora)
while you shadowbox
shadow box the Mantuan Muse of Madness
That Virgilian Anxiousness of tending goats near the ocean
whose thrum
Gradiva, Grad-Ivan,
The terrible poke-weed you salad
is such as Vulcan's mulch
seen uncommonly as that
strange foot you may find
attractive
who knows what lurks
in the starships of mien
on these intramercurial
flights of phancy
Urbain Le Verrier
You were the curve
of these pointy ears
You were
Gerald Schwartz wrote:
nice poem, Gerald. nice too to see you posting.
Allen
Say it so I will not go
sound goes off the edge
of the rocket into the reaches of sky
it meant we'd love some new president
Eroding around here
feel inclined to blow my mind
The different cliffs off of which we fall
seem similar to any sorting of trouble
I hope no one hangs around
one more little
AHB: I suspect that every text in an unknown alphabet is a poem. In
ibThe Pound Era/b/i Kenner points out a passage in Shakespeare
that gets misinterpreted nowadays because people aren't aware that the
term igolden boys/i refers to dandelions (don't make me hunt out the
book, just trust me). I
crap, sent to wrong place. potentially makes more sense as part of Antic
View blog.
Harrison Jeff wrote:
this verse is a strayed hope wherein I'll, dismantled, dwell,
unenthralled, and like the moon aloof, and with obscured glee,
upon space raised huge by pines, spelling, alphabetically, the skies
nice--sounds Romantic but reads modern (or what the hell word is better
than
phanero wrote:
this verse is a striated heap wherein I'll, in this mantle, well
up, a thrall to the lupine eye, which, remote and rapacious,
yokes a pattern so infinitely tiny, spieling, spilling chimerically,
the skies, the skeins of the misbehaving sisters.
- Original Message -
From:
Alan Sondheim wrote:
I read FoS recently. I thought Lethem's localism was authentic, if that
means anything. the story lagged into the normative, which disappointed
me. I guess I was prepped for something more surprising. Lethem's book
of essays shows someone close to obsessive about comix and
Alan Sondheim wrote:
Have you read Motherless Brooklyn? I want to read more of him, just not
sure what/where to begin? - Alan
I read Occasional Music, or whatever the title of his futuristic noir
detective novel, which was good if not as fantastic as it might've been.
I guess I'd recommend it
Lanny Quarles wrote:
I have no idea how you produced this text, and the normative part of me
wonders wonders. but I like its twining or inveterate interjection. I
mean, thump tom tom, chant chant.
[EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote:
egg gas
egg gas, ray box air, fur gem, only smear feelings away,
lightly extravagant, glass wails, pearl wad, quickly eat knuckles in
a sackcloth, itchy nuts, climax dew drops, pear blossoms,
nobody is anxious, yet the glowing wires of the crocus sun
in a lipless loop
david divizio wrote:
I liked this. thanks.
1) Harrisburg, PA
Somewhere in Pennsylvania, lateral days, scanning the present green
pioneer level
somewhere, like off a beaten boat, into the wicked water, cold as
sometime this winter
somehow really basic and final, the rolling instant of hills where farms
were instant and people could
spatloppy mute!!!
[EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote:
Listen my friends:
fruit-flavoured battering rams dock simply at REPUBLICAN NATIONAL
HEADUARETERS, sighing frantic weasel. Those dabbling artists in the
morass companion song run eager for diligent CATHOLIC CHURCH EXORCISM OF
ADOPTION PLANS (read the paper today). It's all the fault of, and
Although most poems are portrayed as frighteningly figurative and meant
to scare away evil spirits, some are meant to be a sermon in stone
that can be read by an illiterate population. Some poems illustrate
biblical stories.
Poets inhabited the great cathedrals of the Middle Ages proliferating
The people of vanishing: what's their shit? It presses upon oh so many
globes, when full and field to afterburn, then season tricked by
delicate loss (that is no apple tree anymore), and who is left after
meaning words? Tho the terrible has a regimen, you might want to quake,
fierce undertow of
Bjørn Magnhildøen wrote:
Attn: Sir slash Madam,
As read, don't want to feel sorry for, because, belief will die
someday. name is skippy when a merchant in United Kingdoms, been with.
has defiled all forms, right now have only about. not particularly.
But now I regret all this witing, as I now
Bjørn Magnhildøen wrote:
Fine fine, thanks carrots and potatoes of fire,
the second logos of the river maybe
revire dream will attach file to each foot for the third cannot.
rocks in the stream there, gate blows of ultralow frequencies
science freckles, eats of the sculpted secs, dry pulskt
It is a regal story, captured at breaking time. That time—which was
scrolled across a textile loom, drifting a busy mode—disappears as a
fragrant and yet losing issue. The snow will melt with a caution
extending into language. Our passive texts submit a lightly flowing
river. This river slides by
Maria Damon wrote:
here's a word you'd love:
ziraleet:
an expression of joy by a group of women in Aleppo, consisting of the
words Lillé, lillé, lillé repeated as often as possible in one
breath. Also used figuratively for any expression of joy.
is that synonymous with ullulation?
Bjørn Magnhildøen wrote:
Dear Friend i read through your profile and must say i am, truely
impressed with all i see, I don't want you to feel sorry for me,
because, I believe everyone finds peace in the end. My name is a
merchant of Omani nationality but presently residing. I have been
Halvard Johnson wrote:
What I Hate
about Harry Whittington is that by putting himself into
Vice President Dick Cheney's line of fire, he has distracted
many of us from the Winter Olympics, which, in turn, have
distracted us from the Global War on Terror and the shameful
response of the Bush
Descend, descend, descend, descend
Ahhh!
The post-modern Boogie is obviously
dispassionate to a significant degree
obtain It in the Jungle of
poetry being insulted
Descend With the post-modern Boogie
or use assistance from that Boogie
*rains came down and nearly*
*washed all
The cellphone, which is poetry, flies into the fullest empyrean, reeking
of dragon that rips off archetypal.
That cellphone hits on something really flame from the mouth, wily eyes,
ravage landscape sort of prime dizzying effect.
That phone of something certainly has made its depth charge as
When vital endeavour squeezes off the town, votes tough by ignorance,
and what the hell smells of everything known to come along, then does
the dragon lurch from lair of darker than you want to know, to become a
poetry such as when you call home, home is a vague tilled field.
Late histories
One city after another discards language for the more vital
infidelities, those that can't lightly be named. Thus poetry, hounded by
the principles of mayhem--which are resident in ticklish parlours of
pleasantries (try to decide why)--invites disaster by writing essays
concerned with dragon lore
Product of utterance and smarmy pants, poetry sans dragon still strikes
a chord. Strikes it again. The chord splits into cosmic desuetude.
Bobcats freak. Bumpershoots spurn desire. Projects fall apart. Tokyo
jitters with the effects of those big saurian iambic feet of the star of
that day (less
Halvard Johnson wrote:
.
Yada, yada, yada. No declining, no unraveling. New
Justices, rah! Servants of law. O'Conner, bye. Alito, hi!
Be good. No clones, no making centaurs, buying embryos.
Thanks and blah, blah -- God bless America. And blah pray for
stronger levees.
Hal
shame about the
a
taste of
something similar to
ice
ages unwrapped
with awesome payback
(where
language equals
definite likeness and
ice
age seems
as if the
only
term full
on the nose
of
going down),
and furthermore a
relaxed
bedding of
night clause, all
the
embouchure, and
no one sells
Leftist gorilla banjo fits like murk.
The dozens side with marsh fleck
off the globe. Musical sundering means
often past memory. The war goes glossy,
peered over, scram tense. And what so
the relish formula, while stretched
out in the tramping? Clean order
solution, mood ring tablature,
There was a woman in the
ground of large poetry,
whose name was
Joan Houlihan and this
woman was perfect and right
and one which feared modern poetry
when the days of her having fun
were approximately gone, Joan
Houlihan transmitted and
increased quickly in the morning
and offered
after directed in the just direction
the brutish hung towards the high today
we discussed that the devil came from Kansas
Where standards went I cannot say
however I am not a predicator
and I try to remain that the way
equitableness of monkey on my posterior part
during a sure time says
Never opinion Ron Silliman
he knows last word about any
human heart! In Joan Houlihan Times
it was processed to the revelation
which startled and palpably touched
nonsense in the nature of persona
what Joan Houlihan introduced (good in
proportion to Joan assumed Houlihan)
to Lethe nature Joan
If dividing is competitive, then primes are indeed irascible resistance.
Yet even here we find internal diapers can be quite profound. For
example, dummy up strikes me as no coincidence that the clogged drain
ends on a short lariat, that the crab is not cast into a reduction of
quantity. from
1. trilling might iterate informal instability, yes?
yes, the plains of aerial perception stop in luffing powder.
2. tripartite rivers found themselves a name.
we left the examination in pieces of sweated lodge.
3. her 'om' resisted mine due to a severance from cinder block.
each added tree
Fortunately, I had responsible citizen to guide me. For enlightenment on
stupid head's selection process, I returned to stupid head's
introduction and found this passage:
Dynamic, ever-changing, Coming Down to Jerry's With a Bucketful (and
America Coming Down to Jerry's With a Bucketful in
[EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote:
Yelp
Yelp
for a
thigh
rinse
I cringed
Oh
me!
spree
shot
stormy
plopping
paginate my
ass cheeks
paginate
my balls
I luggage I angle I fin
I blister I cramp I corn
I clam I spore I trance
I finger I dung I throat
I mud I wind I behind
I i
shore
,ah
you
lubes ,
JOHN BENNETT wrote:
I think what Allen means is that although these words were all found in my poems, the
piece sounds very much like you - i agree with this. my poems were just a
dictionary you used -
onword,
john
yeah. even with 'John's words' and the short lines, it sounds distinctly
However is open, occupied and
anxious, too. to estimate the
newest
in its sphere of interest,
Joan
Houlihan sizes up the drinkable
red
wine. it functions not in the
case
of the three books discussed here. It
is
not simply that one has a
pure
dawn impenetrability or a
prevailing
sense of
Bone day. The bitter time which I see.
To seek time of them and the ground here.
Pleasant Blog. I will have to turn over later.
Large post, I had pleasure to read it.
Adding you to favourites, the defect
crosses to return. and to read it still later
announces gain. close the Commissions:
good one. I feel the same way.
- Original Message -
From:
Halvard
Johnson
To: WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.UTORONTO.CA
Sent: Sunday, January 01, 2006 4:37
PM
Subject: Happy New Year!
New Year's Day--
everything is in
blossom!
I feel about
average.
I just received Inferno by Ivan Arguelles,
Beatitude Press. I've seen some of it in manuscipt and look forward to delving.
Arguelles' work is fascinating, intense and expansive. John Bennett supplies
excellent cover art and a really useful and incisive intro. just thought I'd
mench.
Allen
That high, Allen! Always, as soon as I have done
infinite (some ten hours) work and decide to kick back, certainly I surf the
net. Thus I seized myself a drink and stumbled through your blog while making certain researches on child weight loss for
imminent projects that I have. That spouts
that wet limit
marks an apt function, polished running, sopped to get a moment.
the ghost of
added pioneering stoned out the cushion of that joke.
it seems so
merrie with a button down the hatch.
did you accept
the frozen zoo alone?
weird appetite
in no such time, there's reference to
I think that all meat deserves a
chance
I think an offer of meat will be the puppets
I think meat has begun to play
I think because of meat in Scottsdale, Arizona
I think January meat in 1980 called in the
original ramparts of immaturity
I think low abrupt meat played respectfullty
I
Sheila,
this link has LOTS of Theravada writings, including the Pali canon.
http://www.accesstoinsight.org/
- Original Message -
From: Sheila Murphy [EMAIL PROTECTED]
To: WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.UTORONTO.CA
Sent: Wednesday, November 30, 2005 1:37 PM
Subject: Re: Fudge
Can you recommend
all occult is Heidegger's moustache. all fuck off
reminds of fur from before the apt phrase. all stuff is ignorant sorting. all
stuffing is cooled inside wallop. all giving needs lost fragment. all sentences
swirl after toasting. all toasting is example. all explanation dies in form. all
how fixed is your poetry?
Contact Any Celebrity now. You'll get
instant access
when does poetry seem like a waffle
iron?
This seems just like my Granny's
applesauce
how can you adduce poetry when
hanging from a porch railing?
suspended by the feet, with the head
hanging down
does
well done, finally
Allen
- Original Message -
From: Dan Waber [EMAIL PROTECTED]
To: WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.UTORONTO.CA
Sent: Saturday, November 26, 2005 8:26 AM
Subject: the end, the whole poem
this is a poem whose page is the fabric of time
picture a silvered needle and thin black thread
there used to be this effective way, and people
talked about it. things changed, words were necessary. friends came out of the
woodwork. it was a dark and stormy night.
the fact that people could still talk about these
things seemed so final, in the grand scheme. its as if the words were
maize swami
- Original Message -
From: Aliette Guibert [EMAIL PROTECTED]
To: WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.UTORONTO.CA
Sent: Tuesday, November 22, 2005 7:51 PM
Subject: salut
mais amis
winning beloved, we are happy
Sushi Sunday is
back
winning beloved, we are
happy
announce the happy PROMOTIONS of
CAMELOT
winning beloved, we are
happy
His Majesty King Gyanendra Bir Bikram
Shah Dev has called
winning beloved, we are
happy
lottery of everyone to enjoy
playing
dear logical popcorn,
what's up with turning the tooth over the free bast mundane? did you
clear the evergreen from the highway? and what's up with stone bob, when
you are fraught with ocean? what's up with saying, hey, camera, the
breaks of owning? what's up with tidal glop on my seasonal
here's the agenda to the meeting next week. getting organized here
(yesterday I found my wallet, that had gotten swept up in things). I
will send out a bibliography as soon as I can. It will consist of books
that I will probably make use of this semester. My own books are largely
in boxes still,
listing to fragrance
of one side, the torch
of fueled arch
temporarily
rides the marsh
wind, the tower was
collected and sold
to help pay for
the project: why
was the guano left
behind? for the penguins!
the penguins were
left behind, in the
heat of simple
sentences, a scent
of
atalie wondered if Moses yodeled to the Egyptians.
What if I yodeled, and let that down? What if the
latest car crash involving Lindsay Lohan and the
paparazzi reduced possibility to the smallest?
These unlabored questions off the top of my head,
while judging this minute's negation. does it
Jukka-Pekka Kervinen wrote:
ncl with beltbea flif ebl dbold teb ,yetst inde iner kilt mantr handi
ngmet routspi togashoc ththeef through such here ullita ationa
cloincl nato hepo iner edirissc iestundr rativet ption gitmo teor
ampbl stantfet tle initiv dbold callyabm drashush ctr croscop
J. Lehmus wrote:
so here's the corrected version:
magnify scofflaw in the Masjid crisp nib restorative tic shipment
What is a scofflaw ? Apologies for your inconvenience but I'm too lazy
to access the OED from my home machine so that's why I'm asking -
J.L.
MENU BANAL
There were three in tunnels, associated with different living. They
dressed as furtive spark inside the forest gloaming, then presnted a
fable afterthought. Boondocks clanged with severing, as if you could
touch the survival story. Not one looking settled on the cool moss.
There were pictures to
t's upsetting, like (jammed
between) naming a trigger, but
fire happens, we kill in stride, and the
bakery smells fresh every day
the poem comes outmoded, and
only the reader can save it
trees rock in the savvy wind, a prism
infatuated with delivering
raw good, as in the sense of
Today the first time A lady lost 3 panties
in her house. I sent ladyhiker an email
I actually brought to attention by a school
administrator.Yeah, a wakie takie would help
the naviguesser. At first she gave me this
inquistive look assuming that I seem gulity.
I decided to steal a
you believe postmodern rectal thermometer? does the navigator of
politesse that reads this show constriction to you in entourage hall?
your false role takes some essential thing from you and transforms it
into an image. it can be much more, it turns out to be only the meat of
meaning. low is more
I didn't want any more loitering in the shade rout of cold
thru unmeaning”. the first stop was le gai nob, an inner
city slum that bonaparte had had. Martians haven't touched it.
Then the attack and the rush to get over here. They
finished the effortless means of distortion schools
committed
in the
logistics, industry, association,
distribution that declare that
a procedure handles a
specified event . I enjoy
that serenade, navel-gazing,
that voice in my head.
Signed
Allen Bramhall, author
Amateur Bostonian's
treelike sun
perfects remedying
unrighteous
solitude time
clandestinely
withethedepartures
thesis real
ofstreetsasking
stone emceeing
real freezings
unprecedentedly
poor foremost
seethes
our relaxants
definite
core therewith
trailer pew
winteringtoshow
spa
Oft done Britney spear carrying
Boston, this historic
into blue or reedy
evildoing within misdoings
of closured f action
dust, how trotting its dogmatisms
carvings ,
cheeseparings of flight
godchild the enemy
glaring in, skirting dissuading with topic's elegy, all the
obscuring
Dear nobody left,
I put my
father into
the ambulance,
when it was time for
him to. He was
not going to
rehab. He came home
carried only
by not his own. He
no longer ate
or drank. He was not
getting better
hospital. Returning
home did his
returning. home was
tremendous tension to
It's of the properties of a short six years
ago, eyeballs and stickiness Grid
will change storage. the process of this
naturalization seems more important than
Gutenberg's sauce train and the Flowers of
Evil, of Charles Baudelaire and the laws of will.
naturalization will change
Sheila Murphy wrote:
Allen, this is moving beyond compare. My sympathies,
plural for sure, go to you. The way you form this
piece recalls for many, I am sure, as it does for me,
a very painful event that never quite lifts.
Thank you, sheila
--- Allen Bramhall [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote
JOHN BENNETT wrote:
Sheila said it exactly right. As did you, Alan.
John
thanks one and all. I wrote the ur-text some time soon after my father
(who I took care of in his last years) died last spring. the event and
challenge was seeing it real, or I dunno how to flush the framing out,
but
here’s surely much
to discuss here
so things sun
get ugly we
stud round milking
the moment thinking
of our special
nurture taut fun
tire you weir
you right down
you’ll find yourself
eventfully culling home
or wit's left
of it when
you do the
surprise shut lawsuit
will seem tepid
Alex Jorgensen wrote:
don't know how to edit yourself, and I'll say that
without being pretensious--but straight to the point.
It's the littler, littler, wrote littler till just
before finally disappear!
Xiao Yao
I post a lot with the enthusiasm of having done something. this sort of
piece
Competently certificated and carried out of high school in 1970,
competently without inspiration in public schools. In sticky subordinate
year, nevertheless, after a friend started the competent example:
writing with poesy. Since then, the letter is a central care. an
interest in sticky living
Alex Jorgensen wrote:
An apology. Anyway, nice to read what you wrote.
Incidently, I knew Bob Creeley for about seven years.
Gotta respect someone who reads Creeley, I think - or,
at least, I do.
AJ
--- Allen Bramhall [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote:
Alex Jorgensen wrote:
dis is wha I been
excise purpleness
of this paddle,
which could be
rarer plus grainier
with a red delivery
truck color, the chance
beyond cold waves.
The ocean installs
certain bets, pays
far, appears foremost
like a truck
with the place of
information.
The hard effort
of the luminous
ones
To Whom It Monday Cape urn:
My down boom is Apotheosizing . I wish to apply for thrown down Tinsel's
try dissociation mid job, ids Middle cross in thrown Boston Glob . I dam
publish writ end down dint with long boom in dell forms of dirt. I edit
downs dell Motown try ass downs dot my ship end I
rans scarlet uncaring: gauntleted up to 150 words:
On our doggonest streetcar, a carny in athletics carbuncled the sky.
If carny scarlets for the boondoggler works, starlets yield to brittleness.
All must bleat gimlet inlets like Bartleby—Bartleby-littleness--and
Hostile arithmetic car hop.
Badgered by contradictory story equestriennes within the situation, and
compulsive, as an interpreter of sleigh hands, to keep, oh my gawd, by
means of constant sewing reprises, the eyes of the public riveted on a
replace me at belly button ring or nipple piercing level, Britney Spears
the
great poem, Bob. the issue of poetic response is dicey, not wanting to
utilize poetry. it is hard not to respond, and harder still to remain
composed. this poem is composed within the raging elements, and is
beautiful therefore.
Allen
Puget,
sticky business in stiff frond garden. watered elbow port from the
victarage, until nightfall. weren't you resistant as popular
augmentation? trifles flip from Britney Speed, those of delivery and
those of drab morsel on unconscious setting. might book a 2nd caricature
of obvious plants,
Badgered by contradictory requests within the situation, and compulsive,
as an interpreter of sleight hands, to keep, by means of constant
surprises, the eyes of the public riveted on a replacement belly button
or nipple for Britney Spears (who as we speak exists in family way);
compulsive,
In the beginning God crested ire, celled into being small things out of
nothing. This creative cat on the pert nose of God was absolutely free,
and for infinitely wise reasons. The cause of small things exists only
in the will of God. The work of creation is attributed to the Godhead +
Genesis to
you islands of
men and women
you terminal points
in daily sentences
you Frisbees
in the sun's
auxiliary
you scuppernongs
and hybrid Concord
you straight-laced
fancy desert
you screed with
wheels
you islands of
men and girls
you big fat
chucking sounds
you elected
osmosis
you
All openings proclaimed the new coffee. Simple story: new coffee had
beat to the fragrance. Not a palm oil confusion could be found in the
basic bliss. A crux coaxed the ball rolling. New dumps were seen in
tracing growth thru effort and the catalogue. Old coffee was taken down,
brewing on the
I have a full unread inbox, so excuse if this was already posted. Geof
Huth meets John M Bennett on his (Geof's) blog.
http://dbqp.blogspot.com/2005/08/avant-gardener-surrounded-by.html
Successful town buys collaboration. Foxes repair retreat theories, as
rocks slide. Edible plants fail number. Read on! Flight of optic nerve
seen as disturbing. Friends in neighbourhood begin hefting extreme
notions. Byways look uncertain. /Wild collisions promulgate an allure/,
experts note.
Let go fuck a duck be your final reward. You change with each spin.
You'll spend as much as you can, while adhering to the march. Does go
fuck a duck include every nation you could invent? Are you still hearing
same day phrases while you chasten the foamy brooding of ocean bend?
What series,
Claims stay the course, which ends in features that will rein in the
parties of doubt or production (those opposites). the course, you should
know (willing to travel this line), needs adherents. These adherents
will refine goals, circle dates, present their theories. In time, which
doesn't need
all the flutes
of buttery
truckstops
stall daily poets
outage fall
all the bunches
of apelike
aptitude
stun culture
rocks in
normal fleece
all the gummi bears
of thrifty poetries
resume an assault
with wasted
backdoors
all the humped
fury training
tables poetry
showed for
Lobbied for
mass. Gave a
chain break, sought
flop on couch, loosened
enviable screw.
Couldn't tell the difference
between voices, professionally
speaking. Remained calm, tho an
ideal dragon ran roughshod
across the tablature
of some “new” music. Chopped
at the froth of indignity
yet
Geese are crammed, drams are occurred, loops sing dreadful meat, mung
beans resist dynasty, apes hate finks, chums load clumps, bears endure
silhouettes, bumps are for Martians, laughing endows mood rings with
elated rings pangs of sputum, metropolis files past the policy, ladder
days sit on
The literal basks in quite a sumptuous overdose, said the proud and
clear stomach of possibly the best interpretation. The rest of us stand
in line, resembling total loss of height in beam, serenity, the lesser
step past a dune. A beached quiet surfaces for a coast of flowers. Those
flowers
A bunch invention of
John Keats. We sweat for
this stuff. The crowds love
the disciple, all proven
rigours, the church bells
so smelly in
morning. Collections
arise. Better choices
render other options
into candid
fields, proving lit
up and
prodded. /This is/
/poetry/, said
John
mwp wrote:
FOUND PHOTOS 2005
Selected from an abandoned photo album found in 2005 along the train
tracks in Albany, CA. The photos in the album were heavily soiled,
scratched, faded, waterlogged, sun-damaged, nature-infiltrated, etc.
The content of the photos appeared to be that of a dog show.
the intrinsic sense
of directing phones,
to which I'm off
in the bloom feature
of fettle, masked
argument of
Iraqi, burnished
lock over
tension drape, juiced
suddenness
while prancing,
stopgap economy
while dying,
stooped after effect
in regent time
spittle,
blushed season
after
Picture of a universe with leaves drawn across carpets where last words
struck a bargain.
Picture of a universe provided with colours of intense downfall, or over
the calling with mild surprise.
Resumption of a picture in the universe when trees seek latterly and the
effort of blossoms seems
Isis had aspects.) To know his name wouldn't be feeble and nodding off.
As id his mouth drooped and let out bringing her equal power of saliva
which fell to the ground. Isis now mixed his saliva with the earth and
uttered her magic to create living venom he gods. As Re refused giving
away his
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