A red rotation Perhaps this is what you'll see: the burning end, deft with felt and fog, turning in on itself with a red rotation of home. Along the coast, the black-and-white film is pocked with medicines long forgot in the clutch of frying, of living; suns blossom stolidly amid viscous-turning-white, where our hero poses erotic queries against a normalized database finally fit with its forecast form: willows lolling like widows dowsing in steady with measured steps across the lawn. You may notice pain in your feet, as if you've broken through standing. You're "destined to live and sow the seeds of terror in the dark hours of the night, " Victoria Winters intones. O, sexy sexy tag cloud cloud sexed sexy seed cloud tagged flickr ing xerox costume sex, sexy tagged flag given sexed everything she tagged cloud could wants tag! Ere nige nigxy tagged flag g'veed rotat amid visast me. Along the coast, the black-and-white film is pocked with medicines loorecast form: willos
pocked with medicines long forgot in the clutch of frying, of living; suns blosso! You'll perhaps go solo over appendices separated by gulfs of guilt and a jar of spiders next to me on the bed, foaming uproars across the steam.
The streams? Poisoned rides
anonymous like the face
on the fishes. Oh.
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Xanax Pop - the Poetry of Lewis LaCook
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