Death, maybe, comes momently. With it comes a trephine and a flap. Because of his care and dress and habits. The girl who was clear. She was so clear. When children play at modern practice, nothing good happens. By good, I mean something that ends up on the plastic. The innovation of the skull flap. Self-taught. How difficult is the hyphen! The comma. Merriam Webster's dictionary is the only one you should be interested in if you would like to make it in the publishing world. If journalism, then MW's New World dictionary. Random House has a dictionary, but they still play by MW's. I would like the one from the 60s that comes in 3 volumes. No, I would like the one from '34 that comes in three volumes. To learn about proper punctuation, I will look at bound New Yorkers from the 30s to the 60s. That is the Golden Age of punctuation. There is nothing to it in the heads of the children now. They did not eat the mechanism, because it contained too much fat. They did not eat it because it contained two much fat. Only 2 gray hairs in his beard. Pull them out, tie them together, and put them in her drink. Her and her black and gray striped dress, the one I hate. It is supposed to be one of a kind, but it is not. Here I am, on my knees again. He closed it because it stuck in his indication. He did not close it, because it stuck in his indication. Get ready to retch. Get ready to play on the cut grass. Get ready to put material in your jacket because your jacket is not warm in it. Watch your gloves fall in the toilet when you bend over to read the graffiti in the grout. The Grout Gatsby. Grout Expectations. Grouts of Wrath. Apologies. True theories. Grafting fruits to his arms because no one will spend time with him. A child.

Procession, move. Go over the rocks.

Too cautious, speculative. He only cared for the sunlight during the day. At night, he did not care about the sunlight. The puzzling cut oozed. It came out of him like cream. Cream has a feel to the pour. Pour blood, and it has a feel to the poor. I am ashamed of the way I speak. I do not speak in beautiful or complete sentences. I do not start my sentences with emphasis, and I often fail to finish my sentences. He could not get over how tangled the tree branches, how layered the leaves. Colder. Recollections. The nib of his pen is a crow's beak.

When it runs out of ink - Caw!

Square box - very different - infected palms - dripping cream - pursue me further. WHy did you stop?

When I am alone, I see a wasp. I become quick. I become weak. I see cowardly. Unbound, however, I marveled at all the red on me. Cordwireropetwinehempbutcherstringziptie
Again, whenever I choke, I become fascinated with oxygen. I cannot figure out why. Me, in my dancer's tights. With my shirt off. They removed a stone from his head when they wanted to. My boyfriend was named Marek. I went to Brazil but could not understand Portuguese. I made that greasy faced kid tutor me in geography. I, later in the week, poured a drink on him. Liberal intercourse - in verse. Luxury is often sterile - with a trick of the head. "Something poured electricity upon them." Yes. When Joyce heard it, he got on his knees. The soiled stuff of Barnacle in his pocket. Stephen, burn this.