Friday, November 28, 2008

A line I remember: it's helpless to remember trying, useless etc.  I have no more to try today, looking always, looking fast for poles in the ground, placed there by geometry, polished wool.  Say to me about polished wool what lying down you could never admit, that there were times during the day when wading became obtuse, nervous folks left to their own devices, Samsung I think they were used to.  Because I fly to Greenland, I swim to RadioShack, it's where I got my harm on.  It's a way of positioning oneself to receive the business end of a well-placed try.  And sequestered I ran into the forest, I think, there it was all ready and waiting for me, tonight I lie in bed and split into two or more gnomes pushing tikes on trikes.  Clueless, topless, it's the way to be.  Do you know where to pray?  It's down here in the beltway, over the star sign I gave you a good idea of, until the bed weighed heavily, down the stairs and out into the blood-drained doings of the us I've been speaking of, the well-washed parts of the play and parceled-out packages he sends.  I've had it up to here with a splash, and then we waited for the semi-pro.  

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