Thursday, October 22, 2009

Boards on the inside of the cupboard door and it didn't take me long to think of everything about those boards that could be thought of. Then of course I quit thinking. " "And.

The thunder of a big explosion rolled over them. They turned around and saw that the sky had turned red. The wreck of the Adventurous stood out like a dark colossus against the light background. Behind it a huge flame shot up and a few seconds later they heard the rumble. diflucan 50mg Robert Mitchum? Soupy Sales? Modern Screen Romances is a tent on the grass Over a dozen condoms in a quiet box and the lady used to say (before she passed away) - If you can't be an athlete be an athletic supporter. The moon is set. A cloud scum has covered the stars. A man with a gun has passed this way BUT - we do not need your poets. Progressed beyond them to Sony Westinghouse Cousin Brucie the Doors and do I dare mention Sonny and Cher ? I remember Mickey Rooney as Pretty Boy Floyd and he was the shortest Pretty Boy Floyd on record coughing his enthusiastic guts out in the last reel. ? We have not spilt the blood. They have sp! ilt the blood. A little girl lies dead On the hopscotch grid No matter - Can you do it? She asked shrewdly With her Playtex living bra cuddling breasts softer than a handful of wet Fig Newtons. Old enough to bleed Old enough to slaughter The old farmer said And grinned at the white Haystack sky With sweaty teeth (radiation radiation your grandchildren will be monsters) I remember a skeleton In Death Valley A cow in the sunbleached throes of antiseptic death and someone said: - Someday there will be skeletons on the median strip of the Hollywood Freeway staring up at exhaust-sooty pigeons amidst the flapping ruins of Botany 500 call me Ishmael. I am a semen. - Can you do it? She asked shrewdly When the worms begin their midnight creep and the dew has sunk white to milk the grass. . . And the bitter tears Have no ducts The eyes have fleshed in. Only the nose knows that A loser is always the same. There is a sharp report. It slices the night cleanly And thumps home with a tinc! an spannnng! Against the Speed Limit sign down the road. Laughter The clean clear sound of a bolt levered back. . . Silence. . . Spannng! "Aileen if poachers poached peaches would the poachers peel the peaches to eat with poached eggs poached before peaches?" oh don't don't please touch me but don't don't and I reach for your hand but touch only the radiating live pencils of your bones: -- Can you do it? . dr6drt534884dkdfkgjgeel5j5j

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