Sub-sidiary to the “Above”. Ain’t it Below?

Yeah, further massed objective: optimum temperature secured.  Brazil, diminish blindness as meteor Bladerunner passes over the Witters–sr–sur rand.

Naw.  Are we done?

Jesus had said Shalom.  Yours truly, seconded by melanoma configured around dyslexia, canard back twenty-four months, code …

Vulcanology

SERIF sans, sans serif: Until the stupid shoot their attacker in hand mirrors.

Mn is manganese; therefore mN is highly “something”.  If and only if I was you, “Imagine there’s…”  Dood, you are threading on thin eyes.  It must be to imagine these huge giant knockers, an ïmagine these.  Living in Beverly {Hills, Boulevard}, and on Magnolia, s4H imagine

s

4

H

Imagine no liars!

No risky–

H is age to me.  H should go before 4, where H lost its leg.  Sans serif surrealist, the results of aging.  The smell from capping up dead animals.  nMLs, NMLs, nmLs, nmls, the ground underneath us if we have liquid water and “air”.

Ha, I built that tower, Aria, where Keeny Clutch got popped.

Spanish Orthography

Spanish Phonology

[It is not “coincidental”, but OCCIDENTAL, where puffy dragons of South America stole our name, they hid where they are by calling all their mountains just two names, left and right.  I’m hunting for El Chapo, hunting him down like Alger Hiss, like Trotsky by Molotov, Stalin, Che]

Ché.

Ode to México]

Police can be sure

Who-oover they are

[Gopher they are, the biggest goofer they are]

Outstanding they marry

Them too.  They want a fire

Fight.

They will age.

Without make-up

Everybody I know:

Without physical ache – up.

galindo jolla illos establo

 

Protect Zee People Who Use Marijuana as Medicine

I left some fast comments.

sunrise in fifty.  Caffeine I … had

[“At Thirty Minutes to Sunrise, Darkness Tells Time”]

It’s the second day in a row I get up at three-thirty.  It’s the third.  Why try to lie about it?

T…………………………T………………………………..T

T……………………………………………………………………………..T, you are no longer a line.  Takes three.

Echo and Psyche, here is the Great Hera.  Do what I say:  Cross-pollinate the mortals in their ears; up for sex.

I dunno; these days my world is metallic green.  It has to have vegetation in yellow spots, the inhabitants need clear and white to get a tree that grows oranges.  In a finite world, we escape heap theory by our half-alphabet, and Jesus.

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