war machine

wrap your arms around me

left under the ice. The leaves prevfent the snow from sticking to the ground. I had a heart attack shovelling snow because I am an old alchoholic man. I looked up into the sky breathing that white light and mad brigthness. The soft quiet flakes rain down on me as I look up and feel the hard grit of the sidewalk safeTsalt in my back fading. Suddenly the heaviness is lifted and I am light as the air again a spirit floating free in the cosmic interconnected. The last train leaves the station and I am in my mercedes again a top of the world. Atop of the glowing hole of pulsing nothing that I do not fear because life is under my sails again. i spring forth virile and wormy loam vomits from my lips. The eyeballs in my head pop out and bounce then roll down the sidewalk in the cold and everything.

Now I am invisible.

But at least the snow keeps my organs preserved well and the air is crisp and dry so no mildewy rot. The water is turbid. But I will not boil it. I am of this earth and the worms squirm my tonsils. The razorblade of the earth cuts under my tongue the sinew connecting it to the jaw is severed and now I can speak freely the pendacost moving through me I speak red fire and loosly the tongue flaps against my cheeks. Hurting no one, I am invisible. I am loud once again like a baby screaming for its father but this time the words are clear and precise. My thelon level is zero - fully clear. Beacause the witch doctor says now. Because the grass burns clearly. Under the world there is snow but I am keeping warm loving concept. This is love. This is my life blood.

Teeth freely red, I must loose them. I grab that snowshovel and I turn it around before I drive it home. The aluminum is brittle and sharp but still yet firm enough to jar my dentures but it only breaks one free. My arms are strong as oxes and I feel the adrenaline pumping yeas I can do this. Soon 34 teeth lay there in part or full upon the sidewalk cleared of snow by that same shovel. My back is no longer sore and I get so mad about people who litter when it is snowing because you always know it looks like shit when it is going to melt and my god you wonldn't do that if people could see you pickup your own darn crap don't mess with texas.

love is stronger for men of my age. I can feel it in my bones like the sweat pouring down the leaves. The sweat sticks to the branches and the weight of the crystal water does bend the trunk. Soon the cold brittle wood will conspire with the weight of the cold earth and be reunited in a brittle snap. No green wood, you will not bend and return here. You will lie now asplinter across the path with the ice of your undoing finally meeting the sidewalk salt to remove that tiresome burden. In the spring all the trees still slouch and some die from the hard winter injuries. Forecast for next Sunday: freezing rain.

Be still my gentle heart. the tremours of the earth will settle you. Cold is the hybernating cardboard boxes all stacked up sqaure to the shoulderz. the hobo people sit neatly under each and the paper apartment owned by the merciless cuban land speculator will not take flight to hong kong this winter. Tax breaks dissolve me. Litter barrel pork chops. Trust funds are underrated.

blama blama

BEGIN JANOVBR!(TH

Charge it otoot my account. My next internet bubble is bursting again. I wish I were the business man. A sinking ship steals all boats. All rivers go to the Ocean. My left testicle is blue now. The schock olock of all the lying hit him hard on the head. He did n't want to drink that type of water anymore. He sertainly never liked to be that way around her parents. He was not a level headed man. His batteries were enough to fly a ship. Because I grew up here all of my life. I dreamed some day I'd go to the red guitars.

THE rubber changes it all somehow. I with that we could just fly off together. I might as well tell you. I am not the boy you thought I could be. The clock on the wall is ticking and my windmill isn't going to power that television for that programme. My shit hit the fan yesterday and that was it. I left town tommorrow because my baby caught a flight train. The cold is on fire. My car is taller than me because I have wagons in my babeshit. Because the horsecowpig was not levelling with you. I asked the dreambullwolf to be my companion into this perticular opium den. Shelby wasn't into it though. Maybe I pussed him too much. Maybe it was the Malibu sunshine. I forget which kind of bicycle is the best, wood or plastic. I rmember the rain though, that I do remember.

My children are going to tear this house down yard by yard. My grass is greener in the foundation. We will melt the cement emptiness of her bearcub. My hair isn't going to fill the doubt. I don't want to have the biggest amount. My breath stinks tonight because I never brush. Brushing is for dentist's asslickers. It's like putting that toothbrush in your mouth is like getting a load from the MD's anal sphincter region. My word, say.

Editing is for chumps. I guess the best thing to do is write it down. Bias is writing what is going on. Balance is forgetting the basic facts that make your audience uncomfortable. Academic writing is basically listing all the multisylable words you know in an order that nobody would suggest is alphabetical. It is hard you know, to know how to vary the orderings of words truely randomly so not only the Qs and Ps are reversed. People like to spell thinks right so the schnidenfraudenschnitzel will have to be double checked into the WW2 Oxford English Dictionary that churchill kept in his refridgerator because he was a man of stern talking. I say, the speech you gave at the stadium last night, that was really stirring. How we oulght to like round up totalllly allll the darkies and throw them back to affffricu cu caaah! BEcause NDNs from NDah are so pish posh and we don't want those cotton spinners anyway, their curry is blurry and the Quanine is low.

Mister Salmon salad, has yet to find his mouthpeice on the subterainean mambo train. Because the Ayatollah was oliver North's Blue blooded cousin and the shape shifting David Icke fanclub wanted me to sign his book in the name of H.R., Thomos.

UI foget to owe the P2P lending agency the credit they deserve to ask for. Becaus eI I wasn't going to be steel brushed under the big log. I should rip off those fucking venture capitalists before they get their shit together. Where is you sense of Adventure mister venture? Mr sitting in the seniors home trying to play the stock market with the pension money. Who says the union and the Republic can't legally do that with all of my money, I like to pay shit off. Only 14% for gawds sakes. This return is so real that I think I will never possibly default on the loan. I rip tide is raging and the lifeguard is away. But the ocean doesn't want me today . Breath in.

Very sad for you sister. Souljah. Therapy Whereabie, wee free myn. Th th th th say... can you breath here mister?

Was it somehing hat I sed?

pen sea is sink

BEGIN THEDATE

bombe the fuck out of all of t

my comedic dancing for there is no movie to play on the pantlegs.
we were not historical revisionists
my spam is poetry for today
I read it for you and for me because that is the heart
the soul on the left side of the chest
we will be that way sertainly
nubarile. Wasn't it a long way down?

We forget that the lyrics don't make a poem when you take the music away?
Diet Coke is for drinking, not for cleaning the toilets.
Be ware of his stinky breakdancing.

Me love dress rehearsal of life day. We are all in this together. I voted a million times with my keylogger to break into the voting machines of Alabama. The robot steals your words so as to make an advertisement that looks authentic so your robots can't stop you from reading your mail. There are no letters in the chocolate mailboxes. You can download the Leonard Cohen Discography from 1968 to 2004 in as little as 45 minutes, depending on the speeds of traffic and your connection.

• Leonard_Cohen.torrent
• Cohen, Leonard.torrent

Speed is of the essence when it comes to talking. The faster we speech the less jizzim will be in our eyes. Like when you are playing a fighter jet videogame, you got to fly low and fast but not hit the ground. So you see, I like it when we do that. My best display of choices is frequently beginning to burn down. The terrible loss of the basement from our house is ok now because we never run out of water. My tower will stand forever and we speak every damn ungodly language here that we could be speeched for. Me. Oh.

Did you ever go clear> We look so much older now.

Because to me, any wood is all the same. I've read that you can dry wood in the microwave! I don't have a big enough box for it. Cherry is so very hard and the smell is sweet. Because to be truely sorry for me is to be free.

Forget me now and stop reading this page because you are worth more than this, you are worth more than me, you are real and I am only a memory typed haphazardly and carefree. Because love wasn't enough.

The story gets deeper but underneath you stopped paying attention after the part when the sexy stuff endsed. Freedom. To be fingernails. My ships are on fire. I have a moneylender in my basement. My eating of the last turnip virgin... We are all adults now. Abstinence is the key to micromanaging the global economic quotas of this new age dream of nazi daggers for sale on ebay for a bargain because the heap was tall and my woman is sleeping kindly in her open future.

Steep hills are very real to me. I love the rocks. She gets mad if you kick the rocks. Don't you care? My ancestors are in the trees of our parents. The trees I cut down yesterday. With a famous chainsaw while i was smoking. Balls. The moon that we are after. Because the open sea is sinking under the disaster. My zipper is stuck. We can no have each other. Let us sing another song for the boys that are old and bitter. Lo. Lee. Ta.

Me and the merry go round forget the words to the peice of paper in my hand. Suddenly the paper floats away and becomes a tree and all the pencils I have ever used are in my eyes and ears and stabbbing me... Because the blood flows and quenches the thirsty soil for which grows a new forest of pencil and paperwood trees, my yellow and blue lined ferns are about to be erased by the perfect melancholy. Up to the darkness. My bark is crusty and smoky tonight. Do not burn that cedar because it is older than the bicycle's invention. I am thick and sick of this war. I want the kind of work that I had before. A swollen breast and a curly appetite. My talking ways are dreaming of the day. When we will be yearning to win. We will recycle the average 4 lbs of lead in each CRT computer TV monitor. Why not thank the Cesium for your freedom. We remembered on November 11th about flanders fields that the poppies grow on grow. Weed the medecine of the hippy class. Because my body is cold this wet november. It is recordbreaking rainfall and a water turbidity alert ringing out. Fire hearts have said little more about Noah's Arc. My wedding guest is freequently sailing from the banks of this birch bark canoe. the Tougue is the CBC's symbol of interdependant community living on CBC Radio 3 Podcast. My Kurt Vonnegut book collection is growind dull as the absurd world is more and less real. Soon hyperbole will be obsolete. Because of the termper Tubas ringing loud into the night. My breath is of babies that I decapitated and fried on the gas stove burner. A travesty, someone must think I own a money tree considering that price of gas. Naturally.

Be sure of what you do. Remember to not second guess yourself. intolerance by the faithful is expected but it shall be the death of you if you follow that road. Be wise and know that knowledge is empty and the unlearned can teach you things only the angels know. My wings from the dream are flying with me. I want to play baseball in heaven, just to see if the Docudrama TV series would be any good. Passion begets travesty and we all know how to program our VCR. Ah ha, caught you, you old man! VCRs are obsolete and the skill of programming them will now be kept current by a mueseum vigil by the historical re-enactment society: Great costumes!

I plug and play the TM RSS bandit.