{Designed by desired by designs for desire}

blink blink the firefly blinked and wink wink the fairy winked and think think i can be beat but sink sink my ship will meet the green green of the ocean floor and no no it wont float no more but oh oh oh what a score on the bowl bowling alleyway door to the gray gray night in the dark and the way way we lit ourselves off and the plays plays that we bit from the books and the seconds hours moments we took and we grope grope for the heat in the cold and we yearn yearn for the rocks in our folds of our fat fatening fat on our laps and we lay lay on tile drink before that and we hold hold each other in arms while we grow grow much farther apart and we sigh sigh at the sight of ourselves and we crash crash like a book without shelves and we ask ask what did we impair when we felt felt at each others cold stare like an ice ice sickle of death while the reap reap reaper still wept for the gain gain gain of his life just to take take take it apart and we know know whats wrong with ourselves but we cant cant ever but dwell on our flaws flaws fatal and sure like the front front front open door that i locked locked in hopes of defering the rob rob robery while it snows in the yard yard the dirt becomes white and and imacculate over night while i sleep sleep visions of you but still me me just alone in my room in the pitch pitch blackness of pitch like a tree burning in vats of pitch while my head head implodes on itself from the lack lack of the feelings ive felt and the heart heart stops anymore all its beat beating itself to bored and the blood blood will flow no more if the pump pumping is not restored but the cane cane became crutches for the insane sane skittle munch dutchman and these words words make sense to the sensless but the same same senses are senile when the game game is over from denial

NINETEEN DECEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

(BUTWILLSHEEVERKNOW?) [AKA] {casanova rivalry}

hello sunshine

hello stranger

open wide and taste the tang of sweeter cane than sugar razors

dancing fancy westward trampling dogs and bulls still skipping prancing

burst into the sky we can see

hoist above our heads our hands flee

cast below our feet bleed bent keys

rented scented rusting gently

escape to a world of counter tuition paved dark by perdition, saved larks for incisions

and hark harold still sees in dark but not clearly

our tarps cover windows to souls we see weary

and traveling alone into pastures of tears we

still float down below just much wetter and eerie

and lakes become homes for the cake on the bones

and our fate is unknown but still placed on the phone

we called collect

but couldn't collect

our intellect

still tries to infect

so we dissect

and tried a route more separate

to find out all the business pouches couched but still we sought them out yes!

and out we pulled them! from the boggy bog and breathed foggy fog but we lugged the log till we snugged and snogged and cuddle close to the huddled ghost whose kiss tastes of mist and desserts meant for toasts

and we still want them close

wrapped up to the most we can fit in the blanket

breathe close while youre facing my face and ill thank

it appears out of most of our blood when we drain it that heart cries no more but still shivers and tapers

and comes to a point

with its final thrust

the sword of pure reason had turned it to dust

and broke blade upon blade upon scared winters days and the powder that powered the sun still flowered and bloomed into the blossom that burst into the sky

and we can see

clearly

in the light

and your mouth is unrestrained

and so you call me by That name

and i refrain and i know that you, SEE OUR! why? a end

but not a lend

a gift

from the sifted words of sifted thoughts

and planted hearts that still are soft but hug the earth and moan and cough and dream of forests growing strong and sing their songs and sing their songs

and hope that we can learn their songs and one day maybe sing along.

FOUR DECEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{the walking contradiction between the heart and the hearth}

divisive was the rift between the canyon and the cliff but when standing sets adrift a new planning contradicts what the banning began ramming and the scanner deepened hamstring was the fairest fair of good things and from darkness only truth sings so we set adrift an isle of white and curse the day from other sides while harps would play the isles of sighs and freedom sizzles while it fries and fruit would cook itself into a cake and off of a plate would seldom make a dent in harveys steel face and yet i take but cannot give when its too late so split the tab and rip the fabric hit the pads of written tablets reach around the fitted scab slits festering and pooling jabed with wretched were the brittle gnat ticks eating at their only whey fix

cannot wait

cannot fix

canonized and can eject

landing in a planned location

sanding for a deportation

death and dying still relate to

human hearts that freeze and face to pace the race they run against themselves they never win but they always beat a

n

d

words

are

just

not

coming

tonight

fin

FOUR DECEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{poignant was the pigeon who pointed me home}

deeper darker receding farther than the larger lager larder left for devils sent installments rented halls but never called in favors from the passing past while leaders sent their letters last and interrupting peters fast was sinful to the wrongfull basket hidden casket written jasmine singed by fire and cooled by drastic measures taken borrowed tactics bent and kneeled on the rats land took at once the older tasks hand returned now the broken jazz band master mastered my mistakes and redistributes faltered cakes and bakes and bakes and bakes and bakes but never takes no never takes just sits and bakes and waits and waits but no one ever picks up his phone its all alone on hook of foam and seas will dry you to the bone and toss you froth you justice knows no bounds of bundles books and blunders crooks and nannys soot filled rudder couldnt plan it newer pans he went to the market and couldnt tan it so he ran it all the way home and while he ran he squealed like a swine until his feet crushed wine and denied his eyes the pleasure of crying and tying together like bows of an archer the mowed sudden lawn chair which folded and bronzed hair and knowingly brought there an internal call where the search light was on but was pointed at downstairs and town there was brown bears who embarked on sound fairs and candied their frowns to the end of the mouse hairs reeled in riches but redeemed their vouchers seemingly south there was no more without and with hints of the linen that still was left out he started to pout and reach out and reach out and out and out and out and out without a doubt he reached out and denied of the spout when his grasp firmly planted the screen was rancid and the screams were dancing with cream of cancer feeling answers all the dancers laced their faces and soon were planted picking powder off their tranced lips sipping cider and carving crayon bits wax coat land was selling tar pits wriggling worth from retread rebid enter the entrance and ender of end this the sacreder words still ringing on his lips tingling and singing as breath made them exit and bury and carry the weight of the lost kiss and wait while he bought it and take what youve got kid its just fate if youve got it and if you still had it its lost to the otters who fought for their father and enter the daughter who didnt belong there and radiant plotter was rented for rotten rebarb redeserted retarded the growth and the far hits were worth what we bought it and return now to our kids who still wish for wishes....

TWENTY-NINE NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{WHYTHEFUCKAMISTILLAWAKE}

i wonder where i wander when i open up my eyes

id rather hide away from light and let my spirit fly

and in that instant i instantly saw that the pencil of my mind hard started to carve and got stuck in a groove and what was it doing? i dont write poems i write words that are moving around words that are proving that words that were using are just worth what were fusing and inducing when we inflict them on each other and in their vicinity they become aware of the space that surrounds them and the words that they stand on and hold up and the ones that close in from all sides and every single word was placed into the block after being chopped from the mind and alligned on a pixel fixed with by a sick soul driven by his only drive to be moving and moving and moving and intertwined in the twine that keeps his head around his mind we look and we find that the hair that grew there was just vine kept for barely the sake of bearing the weight of the words he couldnt carry and he dropped them behind him as he ventured into the woods but who ate them and now couldnt return and he never remembered what he dropped and thats all the words that hes got he just stirs them around in a pot and reuses them a whole hell of a lot a hole in hell was the lot that the coal sells for the plot to take over the road out of nod and we are defiling the crimes by assuming the rhyme and line after line after brother shaking line is the only achievement that was ever designed and the self was fulfilled but the price was a dime and we should have just left it on the street in the first place.

SIX NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{fragmentsofboysthatreallymeannothingtonobodyatallnonotevenme}

i followed in your footsteps

the ones left in the sand

and left behind my own prints

in the places you did stand

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

creeper creeper pumpkin eater took its heart and baked the seeds for long enough to make them crunchy slightly salty slightly pinker throw them at me little horn bees stinging singing while their thorns bleed freeing me from all my organs eating all the pumpkin chortlings

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

the exroom left the exboy in the exworld on his own and etch-a-sketched a neckless freckle trying to make its way home. but wrote it down in lavish poem and scripted screens to film the void

####################

blah blah blah blah

im young

and i have mars

take me take me take me take me

stealing from the candy jars!!!

listen at the doorway listen! hear them hearing us hear them!

tweedle deedle sell the riddle! feedle us a candy thumb!!

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

FIVE NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{like most of my thoughts incomplete....}

PART I???

i set adrift a little ship

i sailed it cross the sea

into the waves my oars i dipped

i floated out to sea

and when i was surrounded by

a feeling wet and blue

i leapt right off my ship from high

and dropped into the blue

as i went down the surface rose

so high above my head

but deeper still my body dove

the light was just ahead

and when i grabbed a hold that light

the world below i saw

was filled with stars and their starlight

the world below i saw

i looked back up and there above

was nothing there to see

so i went down much farther down

to see what i could see

the earth came up it met my feet

the rocks below were cold

the destination not concieved

by the waters deep cold

a field sprung up before my eyes

a sun bloomed in a hurry

the warmth caressed my face and i

thought best to leave to hurry

into the shade i leapt i dashed

a grove it grew for me

protected from the rays i crashed

the leaves they fought for me

TWO NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{twofer dofer whatyer usedter flater stiller sinker chose sir}

tricycle tricycle three circles three sickles three heads of three wheats three barleys three meats three plates for three dinners three lights for one dimmer one cow for six teats and one cone for one treat one street for two feet a hundred battles all defeats one victory ahead in time one desert sands with lines fifteen lines one word one message one hand one fish one plan reddish left tan

remember

observe

return

control

reburn

rehold

rehab

we sold

refab

ricate

describe

relate

too late

soon fate will take its cake that it wont bake and it wont save but it will savor our fading failure and repossess festering funnels of

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Break

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

in thought

in time

but unpublished still

around around the wheel

and grinded finer still

the train jumped the track thinking it could fly but only its smokestacks could ever kiss the sky...

ONE NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{for want of a title the plot was lost}

and into the black stained canvas we proceed for the second time only to have the sheets ripped by the jagged emotions that come from the motions that we wind the key so that we can complete and into the pitfall we rise above ourselves and look down on the places where we have come from and we always return to the places that pain us the most and from our holy mountaintop we drop like birds who have no longer given themselves the desire to flap their wings so we fall and sing as we whistle towards the abyss that our drifting has caused us and be we covered in glitter or gold littered with mud and left in the cold when the pride leaves the lion the lion still sighs and the cat burglars conspire into the deepest of their desires and steal from themselves the only things that they have left and regift it and deepen the pit in which the reaper sits and gleefully gets his musical fits from pulling on the heart strings and blowing through the pipes that were pure until the fires came from within and melted them in to a purely abstract lump of glass that still glistens in its beauty but can no longer function as it was intended and instead it went in to the cold room and condensated tears all over its form for it cuold no longer form the spaces where its eyes had been and that is when the fall began in colors of gold and brown of red and yellow and we all watched as the green died and the trees cried rainbows before they died before they could be reborn once the winter was gone, the winter that had not dawned and the printer of frozen calm would doze the cove into its arms and tinker till it opened small enough to let in light and call out to the ones who stood in stalls behind the doors that banks install and never let out just kept it all in and wanting for skin upon skin wrapped up in or atop of silk or cotton would leave but a trim of the fabric left enough to show you shame as you try to hide behind it and defend your findings before returning to sizing up the world around you while the world inflated its ego behind you and birthed billions of souls who never would find you or touch you or scuff you with coal charred by sinus and still it could blind us with the myriad of triumphs continually denied us and inserted right by us in bodies that would try us and lies that would like us as instead of the egg only shells would crack righteously still so invitingly calmly and brightened me staunchly and so white they seemed like the one prize that we still could not grow to reach and thus i inherited all of the omelets cheese broken and tastes like grease and lays out and still i preach to ears that could never see and yet they still try to read words i could never speak so pouring it out seemed better than spilling these thoughts onto your syringe plunging into decent reaping the coldest winds blowing it back again closing our eyes again rolling on backs again feeling the black come in opening fast to it painting it black again all for the sake of a shake caused by not a wind we see it is just another stained black canvas...

ONE NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{all lights look like cop cars at night}

and so on the eve of the hall surrounded by lovers within and without i need no other than the one curing drought and the only lover wanted by me is in my fist i grasp him and he starts to sweat on my wrist and his grip is cool and his kisses wet and on my tongue he is warm and he burns in my throat and so from fist to lips to burning desire to sharing that fire and reflections always double so youre never alone we hold each other through the night at least i hold him down inside until he leaves me in the morning somewhat less than i was the night before and somewhat changed for the worse, but my breath still smells of him and his kiss still lingers in the back of my throat and i still long to wrap my hand around his neck and bring him back to my lips and always one more kiss will do the trick i swear this will be it but still i want him more and more and the more of him i have the more i want still until ive had my fill and i cant want i cant feel i cant stand and everything spins all because of him! but still i want him! and still i have him! and for now as he stares back at me i am no longer solitary and he completes me and so i consume him as such but he was like wilde or maybe it was i for love was the cause of the others demise and so with a smile i turn off the light and sleep kindly and warmly and cuddling tight the memory of his cool smooth skin and the firmness of his body and the way he made me feel when he was inside of me and he never grows tired of me and he never fights with me he just tickles me pink and makes me think the things im afraid to think and makes you hear the things i dont want you to hear and always is there to lend me an ear and so ill leave it here and go and enjoy him as long as he's near....

TWENTY-NINE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{render me your ear or tend to me your fears}

aaliyah wrote me a four page letter and i need a reason why not to respond....im a drift on a pond of sympathy and doubt and if i sink in the drought ill float on the sands of time surfing through the hourglass and down the bottle neck to the bottom of a bottle while the top of the bottle goes down through the bottom of my neck into the top of my liver like a quiver full of arrows shooting straight into me as i turn to the side making a thousand tunnels through my body and naughty are the thoughts inside of me as i project them onto the stars as they project their light into eternity and when we cease to be we still exist as points of light waiting to be seen light years away and fighting tears away we bite our nearest phase and slip into the stream and thus we dream of the eons that we spent growing strong inside of the primordial pool and the prehistorical schools of thought and the ancient trails that we still walk and the naked tails that weve all lost and the forests through which we were stalked and into the tourists who are unable to walk and so we see with our sights and we flee with our fancies and are altered but slightly and back into the trance we slip into the stream and underwater screams arent even heard by fish just the wishes that we kissed into the past before we relapsed into our state of restless rest where we never progress and never regress we simply exist and are dragged into the future by the wake of time and our eyes are open and our hearts are closed and we always know what passes us by in the waking mind and the sinking body submerged by the mud and the ferns and the moss that redistribute our loss into the life force of the microrganisms who migrate into the nitrous orifice and the process of decay unlocks our nutrients and water us down with the subtle taste of nuclear fission and risk it all on the contamination of our intentions disected with dissension and we never bought we rented and content meant settlement and we were too inflated with the dreams of the failures of our elders and we held on too long to the promise of the prince and the novice and the wrench and we were wrenched free from the log with the bench marked with landmarks and the sand larch was ground into saw dust and sent amongst the raw brush and the cooked combs and the rooked bishop who mistook the queen for her majesty and at last he was free and couldnt see the masks who wore him and the fasting had worn him thin enough to slip through those glass bars like air through water and light through stone and the porous pumice would pour us promises for our tommorrow is loaded with quite and noted as right and still wouldnt fight if we pushed it through a window so we grinned low and soon sowed the seeds of our revenge and watered them with the blood of our rage until we poisoned them with our past and cut them down as the strongest foods ground from the harvest and planted into the star dusted scene painted onto the prisons of our skulls on our souls.....

TWENTY-SEVEN OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{danger will i bob infinite?}

THIS THIS THIS this This This THIS this This this this this This This THIS this THIS this this THIS THIS This this this This this

needed to go away

so we sent it away

so we bent it a way

that was not supposed to be bent

we pretend while be bend that we repent for our sins but the signs that were left behind always sign our souls away for the deeds that we see when we execute them

but that wasnt why in the first place either

so we picked up the lamp and the only thing hampering our actions was the traction that held our backs in place against the wall we tried to fall we cried and bawled and all the while we could still smile at the scene we made so we engraved it on our graves before the day when we needed graves to rest for days beyond the nights without a fight we reached for lights we breached our dimes we needed time to find the line to the door to the floor so we dove down and a dove dove up and we drove with our truck to find the luck that we stuck in the muck when we shielded puck from the ruckus up above us wind swept faster than the drugs hit and we sank slower than the growth did for we bottled all our hopes in our glass hearts dipped in soap so they still shine when theyre open we could hold them but we know that they still slip from all the soap scum and they rip when we know them intimately more than boldly for the written words did hold me over lakes that were pouring into the sky all their holdings so the fishes they did swim it down and down toward the warm earth while they floated ever more so outer outer towards the cold birth of the universe of the one I verse of the only me words of a singularity all my own and formed in letters addressed to a sender who returned after stalking the stars looking for mars he took the scenic route incase there was doubt that still crept in your mind like the creeping insides of your creepy insides all those organs denied of all things just light and the only two portals that enter or exit and this is it YES THIS IS IT of all the things that still exist the absence of continuity through the watertight skin that covers your meat that covers your bones that covers the air that used to exist before egg and sperm were united and divided and multiplied into the bloody lump of flesh that was expelled from the same pleasure den that your father was in months counting ten minus the one still ago and here we go here you know and here you go and here you look forward to the same bleeding bliss and lean in for the kiss and reminisce on the future you get when THIS leads to THIS and THIS still IS IT but you cant resist! and youre still tasting that kiss like a cold frosted drift that stings at your lips when the polar masses miss the coldness that theyd get and so they melt and give all that melted ice a drift and sent it out on air destined for your frozen lips and this is the thanks that they get YES THIS IS IT

STILL

THIS

IS

IT!

TWENTY-FIVE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{antithesis anticipation}

while we lie awake at night we see the inside of our eyes but our insight rightly dies when we limit our demise and so we lie away and think and push our minds right to the brink of breaking in or breaking down or stowing away or starting to drown on the boat that leaves the town and heads for cross the wayward seething turning churning motion of your stomach that you stuck with the rituals of your past that you never were encircled by (it wasn't full it had a hole!) and nonetheless there was none left when we left which is why we left in the first place and turned left at the first race starting gate and we started great but on the way we lost our pace and instead of displacing our speed we misplaced our greed and so we gave too much away and we broke ourselves broke from the fire that took out our lights and our ability to pay the way into heaven so now all we have to barter with is our barbers tits which nicely fit under my chin when he grins i grimace and sting it with the spring ships that we unload with flys which all came out of my eyes in beams of light when i opened them wide and as they came alive im sure something must die or the balance would be all high and the weights would take a dive that we could gamble on dice but each game has its price and every man has his vice and mine was that i couldnt help but look into your eyes and feel the pride and the sighs that emmited from your nice eyes your nice lips your nice face and you phased me into the pace that i needed to at least complete the race but then you left me or i left too and in the aftermath we subtracted laughs from frowns and multiplied by the towns and the times that i chimed into the circle that i squared of at the church for the last slice of the pie that the vicar saids nicer then the cherry that i spied when gaga replyed in double and then thrice and the boom part was nice and thats when i died when i opened my eyes for the very first time and i saw all the light that was absent from the room that i imagined had illuminated my tomb and the rhyme which had loomed since my first posts in tune with the rise of balloons would all but soon pop and make this whole mess stop!

SEVENTEEN OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{Interesting deposits on the side of the lie....}

and so abandoned in infamy the infant left his family and on the way out he locked the door from the inside before crashing through the window that he had forgotten to open but remembered to lock.

and so we join the pile of rocks that was attacked by flesh so soft that was soaked in its crimson filth that turned brown like the ground on which it sat.

and so defiled was the dirt that held the weight that it gave way into the hole that no one had dug but held so snug a bubble of air.

and so released into the ocean of gas was this bubble at last that burst into unrecognition with its emission from the roots that held it firmly in place.

and at last we could grasp the blast of wind which carried into the window in tiny pieces the tinny steeples with grinning people standing on the edge of infinity and dangling by gravity above the bells and the choir.

but dont perspire for the ending wasnt ended and we only rented so the scented candles were part of the deal

and dont look back now because the past has expired and we at last have it entirely encapsuled in time

and as we fade out into the whiteness and the brightness of the depths of the shallows that we wallowed in when he all fell in we all began to understand what direction we were looking for when the arrow pointed us into the sun,

NINE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{Inverting the eyes of the road}

silently sitting surrounded by silence

our hero defied his owner of conscious

and into the ocean he would let his conch drift

if only he opened his heart to a prime fist

and so he eloped with his heart on a post

into ropes of his hopes hidden first on his most

treasured possesions and instead of escaping

he bent forward raking the caking of paving

over the last forest that he let grow out of his soiled soil

he wanted to toil but instead was foiled by a lumin and it was soon just sand that he was left surrounded by on his own private island imprisoned by the sirens giving him rising tides and sinking brides that washed up in a pile that killed his smile and left him filing his hold on the past into a brass box polished with silver and pressed with gold but arrested and sold for the market to grow in the name of the tamer of raisers of folds that can wrap and enclose all the things we compose and supposing the rights of the posing were chose? could we still entertain all the rain we expose? and can the lane that we changed still pain us with holes? and pots that sought out the cloud that we plowed in the sky with pride and all the chives that we sprinkled into the wind came back again in the shape of a child shaping his life and squeezing it dry of all the play dough that money can but in the shape of a plane that could push out the sky into the beyond the void that lies above the void that lies above our head that is colored blue by our imagination and our destination that inserts its rations into our booklets without stamps or clamps on our existence. oh no! this is not it! for instead of the pot lick we all stick to the the things we knew best and discarded our best for the things we can rest with comfort in public and faces saved for luck its a satin collar rubbed kiss with a vinyl coated love grip that is rotated at 33 1/3 revolutions per minute while we spin it we sense it has nowhere left to go so we let go and try and hold what we still dont know but at least we know that we know it for show and describe what they told us was bold yes the pleasantly coldness of our hearts as we old ourselves without the aid of a grave to remind us of our past and without a canal to remind us of our birth and our fertile beginings and our ferterlizer ends that our denyed to the cycle by steel we buy we steal our rye and then we die and cannot help but lie inside our house confined on all six sides and all six feet and underneath we moan and cry with mouths not eyes our tears have dried at last but side notes note that we still can find peace with ourselves and our pieces become preachers while peaches plant their seeds and grow into trees that grow peaches that plant their seeds that grow into trees that grow peaches that grow into trees that grow peaches that plant their seeds....

THREE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

(WHERETHEFUCKDIDTHERESTOFMYPOSTGO!!!!) {AKA} {The Jumping Off Point}

the pomegranate cried tears of blood into my mouth utterly devoid of the liquor that was promised to me by the bottle so i thought ill go take a walk down into the darkest recess of my

THREE SEPTEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

"The Eric Show Episode Two} [AKA] {Insurrection}

SMASH SMASH SMASH WIN WIN WIN

"This show is now longer profitable."

"This show is my life!"

"Your life is worthless!"

"This show is CANCELED"

"You cant cancel my life!"

"You owe us!"

"I cant pay you!"

"You have a job dont you?"

"This show has put us eight hundred million dollars in debt"

"I just need more time!"

"Times new roman!"

"And the old romans are all dead!"

"So where does that leave you?"

"Like a bunny in the road?"

"Like a balloon ready to burst?"

"Like the forgotten idol that you smashed yourself into trying to run from the pain?"

"Like the piece of shit that you are?"

"Like a dumb kid who doesnt deserve to live?"

"Like a simile beat into the dirt?"

"I can do better! I promise!"

"Its too late now!"

"Youve been sold!"

"You have a new master now"

"But....who...."

"The writers....you should have known it was them alll along"

"They make all the choices."

"We thought you knew this by now..."

"We cant take care of you anymore."

"We dont want you anymore."

"But...."

"Silence!"

"We cease to take responsibility for you."

"The writers make choices now."

"You make mistakes."

"You had your chance."

"Now live with him."

"You fucking piece of shit!"

{the things we}

the things we craved became things we gave less the things that we saved were no more; we caved.
and now are enslaved by the things (that we made) and the words on the page were the hordes on the grave
we poured out our name and detained and refrained till the frain that we rained could not re it once more
and among all the things that we lacked in our life we soon were to find were inside (at night) of ourself all along
and strung with the tongue that keeps throats at bay and takes down the ships that get carried away into stomachs of storms and seas of deceit that fill up on liquids and hope not disease were taken in stride and once more inside the eyes never cried but the mouth did while lie
on the bed on your head just my head will roll
take you away but you stay take my toll
figure it out cried out the light spout and the waterfall wept full of tyranny and woe
while the little white tiger came up beside her and nipped away at her only small toe
whats in the box cried the fox full of locks that he fed himself during his bout of smallpox
and just on the brink of a sinkhole to plot along came a mink for his coat he got shot
and to top it all off at the bottom of worlds these words do create an escape from words

TEN JULY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{tinkerbell tinkerbell break the spell you cast so well }

long road long night fast car hindsight mistake misplace me in your wake and i will take bonds that you break glasses still fake breathe in deflate
open opt out over done lucks out insane deframe tiger mane next lane cross over merge out sit still still pout take me take out deny your spout
popcorn pop sick noctourne not lit
once upon a time i killed that line
once upon a now is how it happened
once up now down an alley couldnt sadly leave behind the saga i carved in time and time would tell if walls could talk the conversations they'd have would pave miles to be walked by mouths unseen but felt as lips that brushed with fate and candy dipped into the tank of bactal forge reborn in corn and paved with scorn but still the s keeps us from till and till we fill our egos still we kill de ville with rented ills
yes sir
those words are nice
but tell me a story
to get through the night
one about love
about pain
about guilt
and ill read it
deny it
and sell it for quilts become quitters become loaners become gents become loners become quiet become gentile descents become roamers defilled refiled under toner not mint and the spear left in ceaser was unclean if not bent
and still we resist the narrative and fight against the plot that got stuck in the lot of sand mans knot
deny
defend
decrepit
de end

SEVEN JULY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{ how do i feel today?}

it was on the eve of battle that the soldier saw the sun rising out of darkened hillside blazing raging bringing light onto his face onto the company that he kept onto the company that keeps you till death do you part from your station very stationary sitting waiting for the call to arms and you put a gun on the end of your arm and you sit and you wait and the enemy waits and the man you never met will soon bring your death or you his fighting by moving your finger from a hundred yards away and the struggle that takes place in your mind finds its way out of your eyes and mixes with the blood that you dig and the dirt that you bleed and you mix it into a nice batter and throw it on a griddle and make a pancake of despair and toil and bake to the soil that you came from and you take to when you wake when you wont wake when you bake in your son's heart that stands alert that pumps the dirt that you dug and snugly you slept in its arms in the wound you created on mother earths side like the wound you came out of with your own mothers pride after your father decided that time was ripened and the stipend received was unequivicated by the brightness from your knees as you prayed and you prayed to be off your knees and off the street and undiseased and under heat and heeded for the dough you kneeded and needed for the dough you bring in and bleeding for the ones you need to need you want you bought you lost you lost them want them back but cant and wont become the things you broke and under dressed to come unclothed for fortune smiled at words unwrote and understand the things i spoke when under you my pen was broke is still uninked but prepped to go to war on words that never hope to write themselves without destroying the warring of the one ring from the one phone that kept you from my lone that never was undone that cant win but still won and our fun was undone and one sung for two buns that kept you from my none!

and all the while the sun rose and all the while the earth grew colder from the heat that was sucked out of the wounds that we dug to keep ourselves warm to drown us in the storm but all the while the day grew and the men shrunk and as the world turned we looked at it from outerspace and the world we saw below was insignificant in its beauty and we beheld it and were insignificant as its suitors and we saw it in its entirety and the one man in the one battle that had not been fought between the two countries led by two men controlling millions of people on one planet in one system in one galaxy in one universe in two verses written by one man were all contained by nothing more than flesh pressing plastic triggering electrons slowly degrading through entropy which meant more to me than the seven seas and the four oceans and the one blue planet that made so many glasses of wine which came down to one bag in one box and one extra large glass from that box which was consumed by the same man who contained a universe containing etcetera into one grape and left the rest for the liver to filter out into his piss.

JULY SIX TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{ugh}

Alex: Pompous, Idiotic, Egocentric, Cunt Eating, Ogre Feces Sucking, Hidious, Insignificant, Tart

Hayley: Brilliant, Euphoric, Artistic, Universally Tantalizing, Idolatrous, Fountain of Undying Love 

THIRTY-JUNE-TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

douchebag DOUCHEBAG!

i hate alex malex alrex spalex talex palex kalex

and hayley rayley rayley  tayley  mayley  nayley  

<3,

eric bo beric a nanan fo feric mi may mo meric ERIC!

{The little boy who grew wings}

In the distant land of not quite here a boy awoke with streaming tears and cried to see the other side of Mount Betweena's snowy slide.
He slept at night, at least he tried. He dimmed the lights and closed his eyes, but always from the great outside, Betweena's peak held untold trials.
The sun came up on him one day and smiled light into his face and as he rose his body ached and burst around he turned and faced his mirror he saw had replaced his arms with wings of gold and lace.
From his room he sprinted fast, to cross the peak for once at last, all his dreams would be surpassed and soon the mountain would be passed.
He climbed the path, became a hill, became a slope, but higher still Betweena's tip expressed its will, to not be crossed by dreams fulfilled. 
He passed the places he had passed on every day that had come before and reached the cliff where he stopped before and spread his wings out ready to soar into the distance, future, and lore!
But as he stooped, preparing to leap, he looked out, down, beyond past the peak, the beyond to him looked  suddenly bleak and no longer did he desire to reach. 
The blizzard came fast, it came from the east, the first thing it froze was the boy and his feet, solidified ice still stuck on the peak, the golden winged boy still ready to leap.

Not in the distance lay honey and milk, wrapped in silver, placed on platters, and covered with silk.
Often to honey would milk go and say, "This silver existence is awfully lame! I want to be covered by gold covered lace! Put an end to all of this dreary gray haze."
To which, each time honey would say "Honey just wait, tomorrow's the day. From over the mountains, we shall be saved."

But back on the mountains our hero, unstuck, unfrozen, unable, to blame it on luck, slowly begins, his wings to retuck and return to the village, down in the mud. 

This is the end, for now, of Part 1

TWENTY-THREE JUNE TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{build a baren crib for karen}

owls of the night or early morning seldom take flight unless for scoring hunted and flightless mouthfuls pouring into the sight of sudden touring into the night and early morning played with the height and than deformed internally moistened by the joining rejected out for somebodys learning torn and defaced and replaced and than tapered, scalded and welded and  portraits on paper, placed in preface pretends our creator who looks at the lake and lets loose all the hate for mankind is unkind and this kind of a line is undrawn in the land and defined by our hands ability to take and to shape but to make is to break to become to be done and we gunned down the fun just for fun and were left with a handle that was handed upon us and phonics made pheonix become placed between us and we burned in the fire just because we could see this and out of our ashes he rebore himself and left us for destructed and debased before we were revased and cremased and shown to the floor by the fist and the broom and the bag and the drawer that was drawn like the curtains were inked liked the squid that was squeezed into homages done by a kid who could raise quite so proudly the things that he did while refraining detaining the sounds of the grid and the lines and the dots that were plotted against him on plots placed on top of the twin city basement with bargains below that were blown out before that would incite the type that would incite a war that would invest in copper and rejoin the four who would take over westward before moving forward and thrust like the just who would come when they please to be inducted conducted and fought for by trees for the sake of the oak and the place of disease that was floating above us like floating like me like floaters and boaters and strong chimney sweeps who keep us in tow and in town we defrown the unhappiest clown and make aces on faces that give us unsound and unlighten the darkness so sober can see to become one with sun and two left with me left me with myself and myself left with grief and ontop of old smokey we still found the cheese.

SIX JUNE TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

"The Eric Show Episode ONE"

SLASH SLASH SLASH GRIN GRIN GRIN 

I was all alone. And you were there. I opened the drawer and let in the light. The colors surrounded me at the apex of understanding and strangled the darkness and I cannot breathe. And than I realize that none of it exists and I awake content, outside the screen. She smiles as she holds my dreams over my head. I look up and say "Don't". She turns on the light and I disappear. Reappear in a bottle. She reads me and sets me free.  

"Why do balloons burst when there is too much air?"

"Why do you ask stupid questions?"

"Why do you make words hurt?"

"Feelings are just lies we tell ourselves so that we can pretend to have purpose in life."

"Why are you so alone?"

"Why are you so weak?"

"You think you are all powerful!"

"We are."

"Than I guess you don't need these anymore..."

"Do what you think you have to, but remember, I am still here...."

"I won't"

"THAN DO IT ALREADY!"

The sun falls, and again a thousand tinier ones take its place and stare into my head. Each one projecting its death upon me until I supernova. This world is too concerned with its blue and its green. And always she is there. And she wants to take it from me. 

{jiggle my nickels! ill tickle your sickle!}

waiting on the eve of the day to look outside and fade away into sunlight scared of day: sacred playgrounds hideaway 
long trip, once slipped, more than that but only tipped, soon ripped, glisten sip, squeam and squirm and firmly grip
consume, your womb, swipe the nightly entrance june, denied still i try to open up my bitter eyes
why write why fight, its all the same night after night, out play, out say, outside, you stay away
emote, demote, we wrote, rewrote, we wrought, i sought, lets play, i  fought
oh yes, i guess, we tried, our best, we made our nest, thats when you left
no words, just move, dont feel, dont use, dont make me say what i wont do

now that thats out of my system wipe the page and let me glisten dazzle you with glittery words that sparkle, darker, HARK! Yer Gold! In fox, in trot in plots of dots connected by a sailboat lock, intergallactic, radioactive, plastic coated waxy masked men! take me bake me into fast wins planted in the planets sad winds winding grinding losing siding sighting on the british ivy, break a bat to boast a boot, and lose your lab to let it loose, but slip it neatly into noose, and nose your nuts into caboose! kits and kindles leaking lentils, rush more beets to quentin hindle, break a promise than resend youll make your way with nothing mend all!

WHAT
AM
I 
SAY!

Story time! Little boys and girls! so sit on your stools and let down your curls! we want to make Marry tell Mike about Bikes that get stolen by dykes who get pulled in the night!
So Marry told Bobby, told Rachel, told Sue, who told Steven, and Jerry, And his brother Lou, but noone told Mike and the dykes stole his bike so he went off to England and got him a pike and a pied pipers pipe but they ate out of lemons that they flew on kites, and into the breeze blew the words that hed write about the magical story of Unicorn Ike:
Ike the unicorn knew hed sooner scorn tykes who uniformly told him the way
that Ike as a Unicorn would much like a tuna corn wrapped in a piece of horn key lime soufflé
Ike got ripe and grabbed the knife and hid it deep in Simons eyes not once not twice but twenty nine ice 
cold scabs could be grown inside of each slice
woe is me cried the miser tree! 
Woah look at me! cried the slide with glee
Simon could cry but died to flee
the crime committed against manity
but hu was on break so the sea cows came late 
to the rape of the great ike who sat on a plate
why oh why oh why oh why 
didnt the planters pretend they grew pie
were the last words cried by the unicorn ike
these were the words that mike declared right
in the eyes of the masterful mistress of night

WHAT 
WHAT
WHAT 
AM
I 
SAY!!!!


deny! deny! the self thy prize!
the price is high but the payment is right!
and instead of depending on ending in bed
put instead on your head a piece of white bread!!
pour it all out and than live without
i cannot pretend that i like what i felt
when i poured  it all out
and with letters i SHOUT
but whats it about i say whats it ABOUT!!!

TWO JUNE TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{Junipers sooner your lunar clipped tubular}

I
CLIMBED
OVER the walrus it just got raw this urbanite sprawl kiss floating on straw mist playing with fall gliss floating through breeze on an clementine jaw hit couldnt keep all his concepts in mall bits standing in line with a present day brawl tip took out of context couldnt keep convexed concaved the rest and crest was in time flex but jesting with rest and the test of the best was the standing abreast to the crest of the CREST!!!

I
JUMPED
INTO a girrafe it couldnt help to laugh at the staff on my raft as i floated adraft into seas of receipts with recpient treats treating me treating he treated to it by the and the key to success was unlocked in a door and padlocked by more than a saddened decour that was sure to become the most dorable door that did dorn micheal tore at the thorn of the corn and with pricks he was plucked and the crows that did suck from the wounded would wound while wound round a tomb into rooms where the bloom was decided to groom for the groom didnt plan to dip in so SOON!

I
RAN
AT my coyote it pleasantly drove me afar on the gold sea and seeing how boldly the road that it sold me was kept inside two trees that werent even hoping for timberlakes scolding or scalding by maudling and medling in nesting but cresting on destiny deserted desperately tested in vests into secretive pressed white teas left inside your disease pulled too hard left to squeeze invited chests by these unopened deputys dropped out of desert trees plopped on to your left knee dropped on your socks i said yes please yes PLEASE!!!!

I
SWAM
AWAY with a dolphin that waddled at golfing with fin he began to descend into balding and eagles were calling long distance from spalding that ruffled a waffle and wept at a LOGGING!!

TWENTY-NINE MAY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{IT SMELLS LIKE APPLE JUICE!!!}

the gerbil  devoured a sandwhich of which ant bitch ate off and which canned fish planned this to sand tips and land ticks what the band rips and when we land it like we handed offten ranted seldom scanted took the plant in sheltered cran which man made manwich manish man wish whats in a man that isnt a man and who is the man who held out his hands who planted his trance who ate of the dance and lapped of the prance that the prince fade into lance and joust and cat o nine held out mine into the mine shaft stonewalls next but never the new emporer we always knew of her she was the queen who never ruled and who couldnt pool the people into the pull of gravity who had it all but smashed it mad at me and didnt want what she had had and he hadnt waited longer than raggedy and the goddamn plan went out of whack and we had to throw it back into the trash that passed and wafts into the breeze where the sleeze of the air devours the showers of hours and hurdles hate backwards into its stream up until the present is backwashed with the last lofts of historys planned rennovations we always go back to the plan goddamn but what happened to the plan oh man!!!!
why would a fellow want a girl like her? a girl whos merely lovely!!!
why the fuck would you even once concour to continue singing songs that have past into the past and past the expiration date red hatred scathed dead and played feds for the narcs but couldnt BARK THE LARK!!!
no meaning and no consense but census yes and seizure yes and coruption yes and maybe no but we still dont know where to go where where where do i go and i cocentrically loop like a record that records the wrecks of words that stream through my arms and dont stop before my brain or after my finger tips until i smash the letters back into my brain to try and drain the constraining containment of consciousness that we dont want to let free but left it dead and fleed and we were freed of our deeds that we plead to heed to some higher power than our own so we stand on our heads and look into a mirror and are confronted with ourself confronting the postulate from opposing angles and cancel ourselves out and we strain to be brought back into existance but fail at failing and end up derailling this goddamn train of thought that paid to get out at the plot of land that we still have not defined the plan the plan yes the goddamn fucking plan!!!
what of this plan said the man who cant perform and the actors smiled at him and defiled him with words of action and the poets thought of him and defiled him with actions of words and the man looked behind him and saw the image of you disapearing into the mirror and clearer and clearer than clearasil made by desaturating your face with a peel away effect stood proudly errect and declared to the world that he was rid of the weakness that grew without him and within his chin grew a grin and a smile but still he was defiled and deflated and the woman who had waited had died of boredom and scored some valium before she rallied them into her mouth and out of her south came the north that he craved and when he reached nanook he found out that he had the goddamn plan the whole goddamn time but too bad because he got eaten by an orca who planted orchids for orchistras and what the hell does any of it mean he cried and than he died because of the convienance of rhyme and slime grew over him and he became permafrost and all was lost into the grey disgust that is city snow and now you know the story of the man who existed to exist in my story and his quarry that he left the the quails who quarrel with quasars and pulsar pigeons  who put their pick in stuck the stick in lucked with linked in  but still have stinkin parcels partnered with their ankles and plumit quickly into the sand where their packages become peaceful with the afterlife and the pigeons get stepped on by the children who played in the box and all the kids like sue and jill and jack and sam get together the pieces of the pigeon and they piece together the plan oh yes the plan! the goddamn fucking pigeon plan that nanook gave to the pigeons before he became devoured by a carnivorus idol of freedom that flew and inside of the gastronomy we find the last want of the man who had the plan all along and his wishes were that the fishes take over the plan but we canned the damned fish in the first line of this and again fall into the trap of cyclical creation and devestated the epoch that was squandered from craigslist to do the dishes goddamn it do the dishes do the 
GOD
DAMN
DISHES!!!!

FIVE MAY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{ these count for today but only because im tired..}

 One's upon a tie, my two was three fork hindsight i five rhymed right

together my eyes are opening and closing like muddled masts. i will be forced to cut them down in time.
fictional subconscious seeps through into a shakily vivid sphere. i confuse its field with actuality.
distinctive and familiar, feign faces speak in twisted tongues. there are no words, just harbored lips.
the limbs i carry cannot take flight as i uncontrollably sail above. winds can only take me so far. 
defeated or victorious, i look up to my only destination. the sky falls below, taking my trust with it.
i cannot tell what is a dream or a distant memory. i cannot be judged without a name.

- Aelnaxedr MuCdrcy?

 WritersChoices said...

But I can sentence you without shame and place in you my blame! and a name to your game is the name you have slain you have maimed you have tamed and displayed as your personal pet but were better off yet with the letters still wet from the internal pen dipped in your soul that pees black that glees at all of that that you leave in that sack of a body of bones that contain meat that reaps meaning for me from the tissues for issues of the disuse of kiss you cannot, miss you, cannot wish you but will this do? yes will this do! yes will this do!!

FIVE MARCH TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

>Waxing?< {a gift of words}

Black! Black! The sky is black! Crescent, dots, window plots, open heart and open plane for open eyes to open gaze on circle dots moon plots moon dots moon hots shot caught shot. not. please me. please me. pick me. please me trick me freeze me nothing less than melt me felt me yes the sun sleeps when I shelter do not moon waves when nights start fade when lights grow haze when haze grows haste when haste breaks hope when hope is lost by lost crossed lost not lost here lost times lost is LOSTXLOST! and drawn across the hand that holds the pen that grasps the hope that gasps but where did it go and where did it get to why is it lost and does it have friends who hope that its heart is heavy with health who rebuild all the shelves that deter from the shells that shelters will dwell when the dread lies ahead of your pillow in bed and your head is consumed by the sounds of your room and the sights without lights and the shades of the night when we shake not from fright but from possibilities inside of ourselves from the shelf that is our self that the H is before I but after I is J and after me is who? and after you? that too? can we contain? can we restrain? can we refrain? can we abstain? can we be trained! and in training is straining of the mind or the soul the desirable hole to enter below before we shall blow before we shall know before we can go where we go when we know we are known and in knowing are we showing? what were showing isnt growing but it is rowing and it is flowing and the flow that has fled from my head to my bed is it best to be bettered by butter or batter or to bat her with a saturday that is saturated with sadness and hate or to sit back and wait to hear the delay but never the presence? the resonance is recent and is combined with a line from a much older rhyme a rhyme about rhyme that we rhyme with a rhyme for the sake of its self is the sell that we failed, but if you teach me i will have been taught and if you learn me I will have been learned and in learning we are all turned into the one thing that we all yearn and is it knowledge or bliss for itself? can we decide which desire to shelve? can we divide ourselves from the shelves? for the shelves are just storage for things we can't sell and the sill of the window is dirty as well but not as a well oh well oh well well well we were well before we fell ill and doubted our health for the heathens have happened upon their own hell and have opened the doorway from heaven to yell what they followed with their falling from the places they dwell and the cabs that they hailed were nailed to untell of the stories of hail they hailed from above from the heavens where hail was below the suds of the soap that the burped from clouds filled with love and sent rounds off the sounds of the clouded undones in doing what wasnt what wasnt it dumb what wasnt it young wont wouldnt it come back to wonderful want and wondering what it wouldnt wait wasnt the worst way to while the day for a day for a dollar for a dollop for a doll drop for a pall bared by bears in garb of others wrought hard wouldnt ought to think yards of miles of inches between the belted loop orien waxed wanting to be in the heavans in the stars in the dark in the night out of sight but in sight when alone for miles for darkness that seperates is darkness that reveals and darkened was the end of the spaces concealed and cornered and quivering stars that would quiver in dark and quit when the lark would swallow the dark and the black black black night was not night not right not night full of sight seeing in sight but what was sought in the sight was thought lost in the light? where did the night  go how does the moon know white moon right moon black night nice night rich night night night black black black black night black black black black black sky blackend black by!

THREE MARCH TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

>E2P1< (IAMTHEWRITERBITCH) [AKA] {The main character becomes sentient}

FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN than perhaps a flash again? 
eyes open eyes closed cameras on ready to roll out roll in spin spin spin spin flash of genius? flash in the plan? flashes before the fashion is planned and paved and put in place by pretense pretending it previews the pace but fast and steady will always win the race but if he gets to the end before my writers make their choices what will his voice be? will he move towards me? shelves can always be just starting of worries but winter will dwindle the hearth and the farthings apartheid from parts of the art held by something inside shelves and always the green shelves the blue shelves the red and the seen shelves are the known shelves but what about the ones behind the wall? we shall write them away as the writers make their choices for we are the writers whos choices are choice and decisions decide and the boisterous boy who will boast while he hosts the internets posts are the the posts of the ghosts of the girls who had curls but than ironed them straight straighter straightish mail dont call me reference is lost on me and my whale put pails in the pile and behind words we can hide and behind hides we have sights that are fixed in the distance of vast difference and past inference because we MUST SEE WHO PREVAILS ON THE OTHER SIDE! caps lock is okay but he refers to himself in the third person as the first person he sees by the last person to be in the space out of space in the basement is raced by the attic and neither will win because the front door is the only one that can move and it swings ahead to a stunning victory over the shutters who can only run sideways and their blinds will be drawn and painted and sculpted and detoured through the mist of the falling water that escalades and brings ice fades and melts with days in the sun that opens eyes and f stop up change the film stock while eyes are shut edit during sleep play back in words but change the identity unless you stay there long enough than you shall know and haha oh he knows by now he must know but what does he know he surely must know! or is that a question? that is the question! and a smiley face is always appropriate when you know something for knowledge contains the promise of ignorance which we are told is blissful but dismissful of actuallity and causality depend on allity but what is the alli to do ity bity to bite me but if you just see through the cameras can you see what the show will look like in the end? can you hear the soundtrack can you smell the filters that burn when you inhale and can you taste them as they fail? and isnt failure sweet when ends meet and the cycle begins again? can it began? or has it? or will it? the vowel changes everything so a i u whats it to you can you change time with a vowel? for the writers can and these are the choices that we have to make and we shall make them! and where we shall place you is placed in a word and that world is your world and the world is contained in the borders of a page so regardless that it is missing a door, the door is not important not important any more that it won the race not important that it contains a face not important that it is out of place for the door was destroyed to make way for the page and from its chips we made the pulp that made the page and from the ashes we made the ink and that barrier that could swing became a vehicle that you could drive in or be driven in through my words and my words would wake and break the door that still stood but since there is no page there is only light where did the wood go? where did the ink go? the words still exist for you can see them and you are reading them but they have not been written for there is no where to write only space to type but to type and to write are two different things and what does each mean? do they both create words? what is a word can you touch it and taste it for i have tasted the letters in alphabet soup and have eaten that 26 sided die that controls your life but peer deeper inside behind the light and you will see the bright is controlled by sight and the sight that sees is important to read to interpret so the light that is a word is sight that is heard by your eyes from inside of a box from a top of your lap or your desk and a lot of information is contained within that soup that is a sound that surrounds with our without a head phone or a face phone or an ear phone or an eye phone or a sky phone that can talk to the clouds that cover and the clouds that weather and the clouds that cleverly clear the cliffs of endeavors of the soul who was sulking in a skull by the gully and when fully aware of his tears he would tear the paper upon which he had written with words the letters of old to the readers of new and wrapped them in glass and dropped them into a whole that would later fall apart like the parts of the glass that contained the parts of the letter that contained parts of the words that contained parts of the letters that  contained parts of the lines that contained parts of the ink that contained charred parts of the door that was ripped apart when we sealed you in this worlds and gave you those eyes so that you could see and gave you those ears so you could breathe and you can appreciate where weve been for our beans were not lean but fatty and green like the stalk of the bean that jack took up jean when she was asleep and could no longer breathe for she had no ears and no arms to fight back with and her mouth was full so she could not scream as she was engulfed by the gulf and bay took her away and away she sailed tell the whale with his pale came back from the pile and smiled and smiled and smiled and smiled.

TWENTY-EIGHT FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE