Pitcher of water
crucified for his own indelible obliquity,
          indwelling list,
Here's that juga huacavera, your wiriness, do you want me to feed it to the swarming multitude of locusts?
          individual and plaster,
And I said gosh gee that is some Pretty Subtile Musick
          for a barbershop quartet to blast off to,
Tar barber cut off a strand of it, Pretty succulent for his elders
          flaking bricks,
The crappiest slow modem song that cures the song that ails them,
          and runs, two bands vying at a time,
flurries dry-busted over town. Lines of that length
          should not be linked. It brings you would you like that with snow
          somnolent on the harangue,
we fill them up. It will bring the electric
          locust in a clay pot,
wires crashing down
          Sunday around the frame,
all over the town.
          where is that cotton slip she
left a very large deposit in the drop box.
it's coffee grounds in very large amounts
          from the great beyond,
war on sessile feather street tergiversate over
          what the total comes to?
Eleven forty seven and a south seas rider
          the cotton pitcher equator,
dead for the plunger in a slapstick competition
we start out calmly in a pastoral world
          with only some people going to church
I like my coffee blue, crew the cock.
          Who ever knew what curses an arraigned infandibulum
Could rain down upon the wet island in the form of
          Hacksaw droplets? Sturgeon are in season, and
These are terminology dining room sets for diffusion.
          only really here are they easy to find.
More southern than Wales the turtle sank
          These are tumultuous quiescent mold frauds. Nimbus:
But only if it were a pale noon in the
          Tundra would he snatch up
for ravishing, besmirching, and rendering intelligible
          static lessons for those who are present.
Sounds like a tercet, smells like a cicatrix.
          I went to church this morning,
I made it in by the bell,
          shined my shoes.
          What to the church shining station
had seemed a catastrophe
          had the church shining blues.
Tenfinger came up to him and
          Said, who-oooooah,
by gum
          I had them church shining mean ol blues