tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24735777.post-1161033223974457932006-10-16T21:00:00.000Z2006-11-20T21:53:00.296Z

Sleeping on the dangerous planet to discharge the daily toxins and ghost a new narrative Into the fuzz, dream janglings won't shut up or down in the forsaken lavatories of embarrassment but the senses are a front frontal or fractal our humint is a conjugation of weakling verbs by night desire flared once and ended in fuzzy logic the time-ship is only a time-slip

Brother Paulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04053649697784530751noreply@blogger.com