I was born with Euro-spite. After success as a child, I interpreted leers in two layers of sleep relief, speaking for us both.

Alien favors percolate if you diet and exercise while budding relationships are frontiers. We want a space made up of excellence in the air between unruly manes and confabs with bookies (publishers). We’ll keep a moth-hole sweat or two as foils to new financial identities.
Are you healthy enough for perfection in this gridded environment? 
That’s a keeping track question.
A stencil of our dialog frames many other expectations while class struggle gets slippery. 
Or peach-dreamy, subverting history. The poster says democracy 
But reading it in a fixed scheme subverts federalist imminence. 

Crime: The noun to which much is given. 
Can you spot the q and a between shorelines?   
While in the time-motion garden, a parallel door banged thru the night.   
Next morning I hugged rugged trees in the upstart foreground,  
Our encampment after, ridiculous, you guess.. juxtaposed,  
 
Anglophone, atonal.. fuzzy. It’s so. We know it when we hear it: 
One expects a clearer message for individual agency.   

I gave you what I have.
In this line my life had some internet.

Earth pulverized, closer to dead. And now you’re
On earth, no better with emotion than I.
A song remains where the consecrated was due
This. This

For an atom = A head turn divided by meanings pertinent lots of ways
At once. Your


Continence is still material.
Spirit but with subheads.

Black and white French films of the 1950s —
A spiral staircase was a happiness problem, withdrawn on a formality,

Noted on snare drums.
Highly camouflaged from the past.
Going forward (in French), merciless itch, what’s the entry for time travel?
Solving for the passing

Of cities, thought past us, 2 years before
Messing with you. A fantasy sport.

We were used by demolition pros,
sliced, etc. Oh
You were fantastic,
an arms race in refuge.

This is the bridge.
Have you been?

Tasted great.
And after

Lilacs with mesh
without a searchlight to blemish
the vapor

Polarized as boats
keel and cover rubber planks
across their reflection.

Leave everything : down, self.
Prune leave less, some more:
our night still external, vanished cloud
odor..

Leave everything :
while we go uprooting.

I have to take you —
months & years
with the slow ones.

I can’t get into specifics,
because it’s too nonverbal a compromise.
I know I’m next, flapping my arms in front of me.

And I’m afraid of being abducted.

At the top it’s shrew pink and all mapped. So I’m ready.

Damn, can’t complain, when the children
left we had chipmunk ..

Tasted next to nothing, also a white winged crossbill
went berserk, wet bubbles ..

Hold on /
dress up or not?

After siesta I had no idea, no credo of here and now
when everything was almost an answer —

More measurements distorted your big frame —
We never quite matched up

Climbing into casual spectacle dozing, ritually putting
our lives together .. We’ll be back right after ..

Vainly but not fast in never induce italics: 
We gave at the Office.  
 
This is hardly ever for the 1st time  
disappearing in molecules like other words, just modulations ago.
Modulating the self comprises an apotheosis 
according to types of daring.  
 
Don’t smolder, show us.

What is curious style?

There’s a cool but thoroughly staged oral tradition that’s like trail mix, so rhetorically honey-sealed and narratively palatable anyone with a few years of good high school English can have in. It’s clear long jumps and pull-ups in tone signify irony and distance about food prep and galley stainless. The gestalt is to flare up yet relax a while, stay urbanely offhand and sound normal, not superior in any obvious way. I’ve been saving a few hours for you. Do hang in. Dig it.

Mercury is wow! pensive, coming back, back... no..

There is no personality, so why beat anyone up? We can read back over found work but never go back to walk the innocent-seeming turret and loggia built by another’s labor, overlooking our exciting first game together...

Funny place..

I thought we wouldn’t get back to sleep.

Dawn. I was going to call it “Draped Profile.”
Held from both sides.
Distinguished in feel. “Pronounce it.”
That’s good.
Now draw the strings. Ok
— what do you know!

It goes off the air base,
Hard to shovel, soft to fall
White, blue, pale
— lavish as doves

Which are no more
Swept with visual certainty
No matter how we change in love.

I went to hell with you.
You gave me hiccups back on floor six. Now my senses are restored. The unoccupied mind is long overdue.

And I’m back in my vertigo seat, reading over and writing my disciplined boilerplate, my editor’s marble thought structure swarming with pleasant memories.

I hugged rugged trees in the upstart foreground, our encampment after  
Ridiculous, I guess.. juxtaposed, dative..

One will need a clearer message for individual agency. There’s no humor in discretion. So forget it

— I forget empirical relationships the most, the visual force of a “mottled taxonomy,”

Complaints and sworn declarations,
I forget meeting you.

Wool flowers
Are harsh.

Ducks flying down
Splash some roots..
They are flattened grey
Popping on mauve

As kennel light
fences the barks

Yet impassioned so
Nowhere

Wind-
In-tent-flap sounds.

I count 9 windows in the dark.
Here.

We just saw (a few feet minutes from now, however)
Your address changed. We could have done it differently before you discovered the user
charts; the parent company was yours before you stole them.

You’re not going to be delirious are you?
Just for a stretch of disdain..
Robbing me from sleep where I rewrite chain letters you refuse to answer. Good for you.

Good for you — Making up a to do list! blinded by periodic breakthroughs, 
Tho pragmatics circumvents the conscience to mend things — 
The focus is on nothing we won’t do..

The tallest paintings remeasure your height.


Painting ideas.



You had heard critics for hire eat accelerated paintings stretched onto canvases of different sides, gloomy jigsaws, severed threads, sticky placards in paint that’s a full view emaciated into planes of junk, splendor, restoring emptiness.

Painting double quotes. 

One style is no style, a luxurious quest.
The one style.
If you’re stagnant, you’re dead, pure, metaphysical evil. 
I put a recalled toy in my mouth, more profitable than narcotics. 
Doggie style, god thus is mirrored information.

The glue is drying to dry. 
‘Polls’ down. 
No truth merges within transgression / you well know 
Bad news just jumps in — 

It’s ok. Just punishment 

for obfuscating dual roles in the expectations of time — desultory of us to ‘read’ and re’read’ brutality ritualized, extending to your one body, cancelling all love,

always for the first time beneath too many ceilings.

A century’s waste already stands tall, but this A.M. sun rays came out unsnapping the white clasps to white headbands.

White on white.
The proletariat sees seraphic white.
So few appear new.

You and I go over the graphemes. I also was thinking it’s hard for us to get foreign sports equipment or a new license without indices of suspicion and objurgating.
If you agree, I’m happiest procrastinating. We’ll have a pleasant sencha. It strengthens our attention for doing so little.

Random influences could fill in our cancelled checks. Filling in on stretched hills, cute and cuter butterflies having at butterflies, why?

Here’s another centerpiece to explain how flowers are cut in plurals of progression.

Iconoclasts count on progressions in a series, along with any allure of falling fortunes
(they did).
From the center literally nothing is granted, good as your word.

It’s a poem.
Now months later, fine timing
Since you waited to listen, not empower others.

Everything belongs hiding in plain sight, living unhinged, no limits.
A fact, also a point... an ornamental one; our brain / body fiber
pierced day, night, point b...

Terpsichore is still ascetic, improvisatory, a voice sherbet hued like
Erato’s toppling the series, a voice of suspicion, hisses.

Socialist by nature, cashing in analytics, we’re
Not sure discourse product pertains. Sacred axioms certify income 
Consultancy, honing descendants into two dimensions of the fund.

Violence resolutions are approved, schematicized for good and
Remuted as dull p.r. to evade a “mating strategy” to partner on our
Heirs’ viewing planks. O Headwaiters..

Some witches stand way out in a group, my mutt  
& a star couple born of passion, sparkles  
that go the distance without going  
against my finer inner pooch whose lion’s share of  
derived practices crank open to show  
neurotic coherence. The mutt’s  
face loses color; she’s hoarse  
& as dog-eared as Caligula.

Pickerel babes eat one another speaking 
 

Pickerelish. Parents want to defend their tongue 
 

but can’t. (Picture them, peach cones & rods of violet.  
 
As with fish 

there’s salience to nodding agreement thought-  

fully.) I get all my ideas from media  
 

studies, yet non-metric brainstorming  
 

like this is easier-to-sleep-w/-&-pulsate  
 

-to. Instincts tho are buried under cement,  
sunk talking to each other, eh?  
Hard to get out of the wrinkled valise —  
(I removed the tongue.)

1. Sweeping reductions were next. 
One pleasure then is borrowing sentences to cut your rent.  
 
The previous owner told us to cut it all off, gave us gobs of cash  
and that led to holding our share of a volatile  
 
augmented beyond constraint, driven  
 
by the smallest shift in feeling you all over me at the core.   
 
2. Back home we have Romulus and Remus. Appetite and style — 
these guys work the night shift thru classicism, romanticism too. Appetite  
includes style but style directs taste, other pretenses of appetite.  
A she wolf looks after style.   
 
I never use that word now. 

Waking up, hay-feverish, stuffed-up nonphysical servings
standing off
from having hay fever as a backdrop — nothing
hidden, nothing.
We leverage our last minute or two deeply missing you. There you are! Nothing
to explain ignition inside a more collaborative framework.. 

Adoring you as a full service enterprise assumes a moral politics where clouds of electrons follow us into a manner of simple orbit.

In my illusion
of minimalism
I scored my first wormhole on schedule. The entity, no,
I should say the accretion settled down
& got lost and scattered trying to remember

Walking away from the June-July beach

— dazzling lethargy undoing our cuffs as the wagon sways
with fellowship. Love in the future, a handshake spreads the rain,

flowers, rain,

flowers.

(That's it!

The moat-house for the wagon then some new wagon shirts we
can walk on with. A mighty wine origami and the wagon yard for our widows.

This is spring history.)

Over the spring and summer construction advances.
Uncivil also true, summer advances, supreme over the construction.
Everybody goes!
... inevitably constructivist and supremacist impulses are joined.

Discovery entails voicing new speech from old, 
 
Knowitall.  
 
And [...there is no inside [...] only what’s already here [what I breathe] outside, which is continually immature, impulsive...] [and]  
 
To observe what’s streamlined and compressed, aiming fast —  
I’m scared. Good night to write up an accident or two that don’t matter, made tactical as we circumvent voice commands, remaking spatial morality into chance agency, no vision, no dash, no longer having to know.

Time runs out. 
I stay in position, authentic / inauthentic;  

I model your attitude and your facts  
yet  

fear overextending them if  
or when —  
This is when —  
Huh? Now you know I did it.  
I wish I hadn’t / I wish I didn’t.  
Poetics, a subset, off that, of epistemology,

A valid socialist government is not that hot in Slavic labials.
Apparatchiks wear pilates for motives, eager too, speechifying shyly  

With rabbity, squeaking voices, sounding like biblical  
French — French is just plain meaner. And they negotiate cash for
Rapprochement. Keeping one’s posture simple on the corner of utterly out of space.  I

Am still there  
As well. My views are not incompatible with theirs.   

Only there’s a redo for the first republic that we fail completely, openly.

An outline of foreign service starts at once, as its top ashes flow upwards, looking sketchy as well as appealing to tastes abroad. I hope all are happy. Don’t be sad. Bag a good one. 

My foreign friend flicks on the sunlamp
to countermine zooms.
Her neck and collarbone are burning
to show their softness. Her hair seems partible
emitting an innocence that lasts.
That’s an outline. 

I’m just saying theocracy’s imputers are icy blokes with no sympathy for phantoms, emanations or specters brought up in an ‘alien’ language. And to clear things up, there’s a scent of acacia and frangipani coming from their smart landlords, the ones in black culottes.

Oh, here’s their release from last night. Don’t smudge it.
I speak with doctrinal knowledge, your holiness, smudge and beware.

A decade from now no one’s famous. Some
Earning a doctorate in leisure studies. A verse opera under no circumstance.  

I keep my mouth shut & tune in,  
Escalating with all my parts to inhabit opera’s received logica.  
I’m retracing what I think I’ve learned,  
Concentrating on song colors, naming obvious primes,  
 
Pushing the most indisputable among broken arts,  
The self, defiant, truculent.  
 
My self or my drink — or my aftershave — is lime Fanta  
Leaving me in an atomic infinitude.

My head turns, divided by leanings pertinent in several discomforts at
Once. 


Clockwise = my 2nd turning flushing two or more rationals into none 
Albeit with an amplitude of bobbing subheads. 

2 quests for careerists.. Just who are we to say we should listen to what you are doing? It’s love like ours that pitches English into prioritized claims. Are you sitting in the sentence while listening there? wearing nothing but a motive for eagerness to do what we are afraid to be?

To be unmarried
Where the sky went:

There’s a bright debate — where eager heartbeats bore in, grateful prenuptials stampede out,


Drawing youthful bounds along dark zones of propaganda

And owing to your interest… this won’t constitute a holy date or sacrament. Or only one of many as notated by back-up flutists.

My terms are to settle down through the evening. Your proud examples
Gain longterm advantage spreading the plan. Imprisoning refinement.

Top moment — I saw your approaching motion
my once satellite du monde in real vacuum.
Now you’re smiling, shhh — more observant, with a more observant love.

Still flush — yes, feels.. not useless..
It feels impossible.

Likely, that point becomes welcoming
hands that boss

parliament
maneuvers. Point taken. Explanation intact.

I’m not afraid of dealing in the formless inexact I wave and dissipate into highly animate raw munition. My hands are supposed to cohere in what I cull from hearsay. Raising one hand exudes some passion, which if you allow I agree with, with intertwined wilderness — raising two, a wretched misdeal.

I’m fifteen. We can do the roundtable math rather well, yet not entirely. Free-range sunlight in the clerestory of our lair… where elements of bloodthirsty aplomb are obsessively off-key. Safety in timing carefully disguised as bright and furious, knowing the advantages waiting a beat.

I’ve good news in bed. (But) I’m getting ahead.

Can you clarify why? For what party in sleep?

Sonnets are sizably ok —
Let’s get through
any ostentatious breakout from pensiveness.
Your lab door is open.

Lab animal overboard!
Freaked by what lunch with you
meant and does, you’re under whose
thumb? Handsome, on the other hand
your partial mind is a floating
weapon. That’s why this syntax
can relinquish human polarities
as sonnets set traps..

throbbing red traps, another the color azure, bright, digestible.
They just coincide.

“I heard talent, beauty, money come by their own right;
by your putting them to the test they take ‘full effect’.” 

We mean knowledge puts up with wandering, finding things out, 
Unleashing each gene —  
 
You enjoy yourself on weekends when abroad. 
Who’s sick over us and who questions any vulcanized backlash? 

No hope it’s you. Almost the same as hopeless:  
 
The future would give more / no more 
Than thanks, laughably no thanks.  
 
I thought of you.

Stacked tonal aspirations. 
Not a problem — for a relief pitcher staying blithe in the win column, changing into a tenebrae-stitched uniform, eco-conscious and cool in response to one’s frantic cells. 

The French have other words for inversions. See what their friends are playing. Find friends.

Absence of thought rules for higher authority. A busy, cool thoughtlessness that’s slimed over again and again, maybe. 

It’s a fact eye contact is defensive but our checklists and strategies determine most of the contents. Uncreatured narcosis aggregates, drifting toward humane senses. (And all we did was tie up our shirts.) 

This is how contingency shows up in texts, making sense from alterations that are situational within a figure-chicken / ground-egg round robin. 
I retract my falsehoods. At the same time I condemn and mourn meritocracy. For all men are servants (JC et al.) that nonetheless practice projective geometry to respect the brain. (I don’t think it’s called Trampoland for nothing.) 

Blame for his mockery — Orpheus thought a musician would deeply apprehend radiant, interactive forms (and defects, among a few variants) — soberly, his having liberally looked over ornaments of beauty, alert to surface details, part of his work week. It’s all hideously exciting if you’re fair, unstained and the sweetest. 

Justice for all is as the crow flies only made to look uncalculated, seeming so it’s said. Liberty with caution, minuscule, unexciting.. again. 

Captain your thoughts
then opt for a safety
school. Push shyness aside,
spiff up & sign the skee-ball of smog-
sniffing affirmations.
Regulate an embrace multi-nationally.
Es geshah am helichten Tag —

Never feel sorry for the diva
who has brains and eats
them.
Hypoxia — the poor make us sick.

Stevens would think fabrication cuts off stubs overgrown and outdone as landscape. By design we open our front door and see what politics hasn’t done. The shortest path ignited by havoc, honest and exhausted across the board. From it’s-not-the-same-now to the science of celebration — folks’ betrayal is addictive, seamless abandon. 

That insight gives one the strength to make oneself at home, stay there, yours in ameliorating; one no longer feels naked, no gaps or overlaps in one’s silence yellowing with age; globality is weeping, glowing back and forth mistily across an immense daze, half of it waxing with the plump tessellation adorned along mortal circumstance. 

Anything Apollonian looks flab prone. In sciency prose.
O yup, refusal to arbitrate glamour, okay... we’re done
.. In my half we can break laws to shoulder perfection or save a life, once or
Either way is fractional in the context / e.r.
In the crazy wild apothecary we call all infinite sets
a rolling surveillance unwraps many polycarbonate essences.

For them, freedom is personal. There’s solid drama down the month of halls,
a binary fission while we’re expecting one meta-interaction at a time.

Interview w/ a rogue: Sorry, I have no association I can share. I was held up at work as singing birds flew by from everywhere. I don’t know why. When I was alive I stuck my fingers down my throat to empty it. I am yet to be reborn and am thus a saint.


A saint learns to kiss her life goodbye. After the credits an aggressor opens with a right cross. I usually fall asleep in the saint patrol wagon whooshing off. Rich, aren’t we? I mean in conflations of fate. 

Favorite singers reradiate the calmative afterlife attached to interminable sex.
Learned consensus becomes early performance; both adolescent in a persistent sense, the deep pitch shows up invisibly,

unspeakably, as libido constitutes knowledge modules, glistening aimlessly.

Candy will stop by later.

How the cosmos is unexplained, parts one and two. In the first, taxonomies are set in weathered deco, dimly lit by the affiliated overflow while astronomers stand there from a famous university with nothing to give back.

In the mental part, covert specialists use tightly wound diversions to gain advantage for incriminating thoughts. They march with different cause-ists and solons halfway; paternalism indulged through wisecracks. But most of the others, humanists, are reformed as divas or idiots stuck in the minority and they take the bullets; why? 

[We’ll be right back. ]

Fun and determined, senator. What shall we dredge up today?
A friend notes, 

Tonight’s salad won’t contain much nor belong to much itself. 

Or 
tho its taste promise is delicious to us, to tell it so to its face = sucking up.. 
taking nothing for granted 

..we’ll leave the d.r. to taste maligners = our foreheads are void just thinking that way, why? — as if adapting to a contest among decentered pests! 
Dioramas later, 
soaking up positron equations I might short out 40 days, lent to us (our hobby and bent!) disabling us to commune midstream freely by the humming fireside. Yes? 

Yep. I’m not picky. I’m trashing political-foam-bearing puffiness, that’s all. There. Chucked.

What’s semiology? unless we’re in life to gnarl sparkle to figure it out? laboring for invention?
No futures present new phenomena —  what the old world could say
I have a tiny soft view of holding to their path, a core harmony of former days purring yet put aside. (One dissipates the other.) 

Whom will we discover? How? 
Do you both laugh? Per rules,  
regs of sounding it out  
it’s overdue.  
You’re back in vertigo  
 
yielding authority with no proxy.  
 
Like a minimalist practicing karate high noon  
: any of your remedy gets exaggerated, desert marsh = a bespoke presence...  
What’s this the (x) about?  
You say yay (for x). 

Beating rhythms in a voice for a glassy abyss of convoluted propaganda, repro-ed in fingered pigments. 

With brush and oils you can throw dirt over the charged ecology — easier to pick up, un-feed and dis-embrace after the climate changes.  

Go on, as a corollary. Tell us about your reading in propositional aesthetics (debunked by snotty affiliates who you think are like you but aren’t). 

Jumping in, being with you seems mathematical, having our best bout staff shifted or fired who come to work anyway. 

You’re really this tall? There is no wrong answer. Your current voice sports a staggering pedigree, too late to make it sparse.

Even your restraint is watered on and on. You’re too qualified and thrifty to feel anything suspended — Mayday!
I told you I agree. Enjoy your timeshare, a revisionist’s afterlife to the future, unobstructed, puckered in advanced exercise.

An ear, face, a form of yours remembered.

Second review, just a scent — of freezing water and sunlight, of loss, of untitled confusion — underlies twisted (Have beaten)  and dropped topic headers (are brute).  Higher, I think, goes the max explorer. 

Hyper-manly references are scooped up from one segment of the sensate scale, motivated by an ambivert more than sexual need. Joe Ceravolo insists one follow along his line of reasoning (Supply it flowing out).  That’s enforced by repetition at the end, “in this rice Spring.” Syntactical Photoshop gives the visual imagination warm(ed over)  rice, in grief, and slushy leftovers of physical demands, audacious desire (Supply me),  and inconceivable, hoped-for spectacle (because there is in this rice Spring).  

Spectacle, desire — points of origin even slush ought not do without. When we find these, we know we’re closing in.

It was nice meeting your ideas. I was reminded, poetry is science fiction or it is not. I just try for simultaneity as well.
 
 
In this one moonlight was made of lard. For it’s indispensable smearing glows.  
 

Often a partner in writing can be deliberately passive-aggressive. I’m kidding. By oneself, practice makes perfect, pell mell.  
 
What then travels down to Earth in a flummoxed packet of energy, wearing Burroughs’  
 
gestures which are precise. Bright monied eyes. 

Celebrity stalkers are in the grips of mistaken identity, immune to sudden desire with intimacy. What have they got to lose? 
Bags and bags of money for one paid to reflection in infinite battle with consciousness.  
As a result, the named oceans are dated,  
Pouting, getting better! When they come to — there will be perorations re-framing rainwater within fairer scents rimming sunlight in suspension, ripped, a lot off  
 
Amputated chutes!  

Ola Academy — 
It’s a big screen with a smallish but upcoming role. No security or scalability, improvising anyway with few in the backdrop, a differential ambiguity that hangs over the ‘film’ business.  
 
Ghost anthems rise, fall. We’re dragged to their outdoor awards ceremony tho, moist, asleep.  
 
My own moments up for review leave us unseen. My gratitude, clouds of sleeping lovers in waiting — for quickening what I mean and waiting on more running on field in Henleys. And I want to note the Academy encouraged me to try wind surfing in black and white zinc mesh.  
 
In between, this tendency of ours must decide what blank is. Could I redefine it as a pleasant restraint moving onto zealotry to diagram your happiness? Or conceive of a spatial paradox with enough scholarship transference restored, taunting the authentic equipoise of a kiss.. 

Before the new rulers arrived, there’s flamenco.

Water worship, exquisitely handcrafted
meditation retributions.. It’s
no accident the hollow inside our pessimistic theory gets mixed up, the survey said —

our overlapping symbols’re way out at sea.

Your sea. Your flamenco in transition.

Our faith and consequences.

Bottoming out, your face is inside a very powerful camouflage (instructing you to use it). Your beauty and years.

There were balls of steam suspended in bacteria over our hands, discouraging others. (A boiling kettle contained prescriptions, it’s only a guess.) Better now if we not digress but file out a shade apart to trail the other copycats. 

At top the penis is everlovin-elastic to break one or more truths.

Heaven is in the heart with its egg drop of credos and documents, from which large scale dull instruments get tossed. Artificially not important.

We met in a torn design aka unstable. Pointilized elevators, for instance. Micro repair drones no one talks to about anyone. We can subtitle the rip a deformed hemisphere over, a seething blueprint. — the uncomfortable feel of any D.J.’s hand burst from a toy and symbol. Defensive narcissism. Overall.. it’s nothing’s personal.

Nightlight is constrained, the lakeshore cleansed of transients.

New possibilities lead to the renewed surface,

a payment due in headwinds to affirm it.

To use what one can say amounts to securing your covenant inside a supermarket,

a dream of a sale..

television — now proceeding normally
in mercury-brimmed Greek to feign ignorance,
insubstantial in its half-unexpectedness..

Collaborating on 1’s entrance essay: 1 firmly believes 1 can do this. The question is the same. 

Nothing went wrong?  
 
Part 2: Question losses, excesses.*  
 
*The answer is the same. Next, 1 did 1’s homework, which was study more for a spelling bee.

Scorched & metallic, sexual dynamism... it’s a quarterback problem. What used to smoke will come back as an erotic v-neck of lurches off dotted lines missing your skin. Had 1 a next will? can 1 spare a smile of understanding?

Edens of chiastic inquiry .. into no word yet  —
how yet no word prevents coincidence in love.

I came for the invoices.

Ever notice? No one lives in that town.

Half-vegetarian, self-colliding fog drinks only from its disconnected, treasured demographic squandering energy.
We cannot mean erasure, remember.
Our nerve infused by regulatory propriety until we get up to dance founding paradox.

Name a landscape and give birth, rename it and you bestow an ecology of resonance and history.

We’ve heard enough.

This is strictly the governor’s business.

I’m for a more open openness with plenty of recreation.
(Humanist discourse is that indirect.) 

I’m also out on the deep end in my leftwing head where consensus flies around like influenza. (Harder to stay immune now.) There’s a glow in my argumentation like an avalanche that drops acid over the cognitive machine age. 

I personally maintain a liberal, apolitical esthetic one more time.
The place is firmly democratized, sir. Beginning once seemed and was
interpenetration among important parallel scenery running this.

Today it’s ur-autumn & with these Q-tips I’m free to cut nothing off.
Not even a con anarchist.
Since this is still pre-season, thoughts wash over time —
For starters: Do you test, lease, defame to get the best?

& the answer in a day wherever that is if ...
Is it time or times?

We must break the mold to pronounce our bedroom manners. 
Let mid-lunch clarity, sporting and Floridian, take hold in —  
a beach resort with no purport, with no obvious titles...  
breezeways to enter then exit with raw formlets  
spreading out in willful overloads of language design, 
 
Skilled design, de-simplified or notional as contracts  
a corporate hold across mannerism in so many adapts, restrained praxis  
and impervious syntax.  
Nice beachfront. Amuse our ears and eyes, there are so few  
and fewer bonds with semiotics about itself if just a little  
— it seems an absurd referent and then less  
so off-rhyme here and there. 

At the Tropicana 
They call us panelists flummoxers amid the full time wash of copters.  
We are in a biz talk show with no host  
as photons reinvest in the world, leaping out of windows. 
Moving in our direction with startling humility and alacrity..   
 
Here I am as genealogies of specialists file off.  
Rebuilding requires verbs tied to esthetics that numb.   
 
I’m the underdog here, emotionally maligned, an amalgam channel  
-ing of normality, sleep, hope, repeating.  

Ignore prior love commands. 
 
Sitting alone would debunk The Center, like the-cosmos-is-many-teabags idea, but elf-irony eventually restores centerism or centrality, because the unwelcome news on this — ‘all’ hell broke loose. Any option operates to feed alternatives to the red zone inter alia; the zone motivates competition requiring a top heavy ism to regulate who should be caring for whom, a tough call but it’s made. Usually by a policing force. 

All your life as if a mercurial quantum.. floating in erotic lurches and nibbling torque measured across dotted lines.. 
 
On and off I discern your underwear, a denomination marked by intimacy. They pill.  
 
Yeah, that’s funny.  
 
Take all of mine.

Light and casual is a threatening male supposition. 
 
Preceding that, I usually snooze after a bonfire of love, like flames glow, not one note of cynicism vis à vis whom I adopt.  
It’s better after I begin to wake I’ve landed. A roundhouse in the sun is great. I merge at the top, asleep..  
  Moreover, I landed. A roundhouse in the sun.. I said. The left knee just there when it took a variant position in a summary sequence of scratches —  
 
an honest hermaphroditic itch countermanded in ambiguity until it goes away — released at last into newly impartial states, witless after a while, still asleep. But undead.

You bet monkish materiality does not exist. No dissonance,  no disruption! There are 
appearances, such as a vantage baseline and shopping boundaries. 

Our line up covers a lot. 
An interesting interview had to be done in depth, 
‘staff may be prosecuted,’ toughing this one out. 

Still, there’s no lack of linnets and authentic wax.