After the lions had returned to their cages, creeping angrily through the cutes, a little bunch of us drifted away and into an open doorway nearby, where we stood for a while in semidarkness, watching a big brown circus horse go harumphing around the practice ring. (White, 178b)
Christen terror aching fecal meter, trundle back-jab prickle elbow, glittered heavy being shaker lifting wrinkle steamy gallows, hemp-tea largesse yellowed cranial, fielding recover play-dough gunner Cambridge tunnel fault of driven manicure.
We and
-
________ _______ Let's be perfectly Dada --- You mean Fouist?
admitting our songs wereshit our worse the shite of seven
generations however ...
1 week ago
No comments:
Post a Comment