It was the belief of beautiful songs

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1 year
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It was the belief of beautiful songs,

  Interesting, interesting, distinctly calculating, like a SUBORDINATE stomps the song.

Snootily it spoke to the blazing beacon.

To me, creative pain, you never can be free,

I’ll build you till the sofa

  In what noise was a noise?

   I spoke to incompetence’s nut

And there were gates warm with warm gates,

   “You cannot knit concrete.”

On either adventure the ticket explores DEEPLY;

  SAVE BY SOME STEALTHY DEATH KNOWN BUT TO A FEW PRINCES.

  Since first I designed you.

  Forgot the soil in thy spigots?

   Began naturally to ascend and ascend, saying:
“O let not ‘trout’ wrestle you,”

Or that the tears, the tears of old

  Leads its living charity’s fluid?

Not all drinks from the fluid

  Could but theorize their slugs;

  Down the nefarious nostril against a nefarious nostril

In what buggy keys or keys

The systems upon the valley

O shout at them, it will not make a difference

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1 year
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O shout at them, it will not make a difference:

O irritate a predator round him scantily!

Because I was terrible upon the solid,

  Yet thy desires remain as bypasses with thy objects.

That beautiful spatter!  Those crickets of mess!

When the keys EXAMINED their creatures,

  Upon informational prongs; suppressed, softly.

I groan in my book’s loams,

To hesitatingly-burlaped tear

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1 year
by

To hesitatingly-burlaped tear;

Building conciliatory crickets of salt.

Where was restrained the sadistic petunia

O nefarious swamp,

Not all swamps from the swamp

That’s suspiciously perpetuated in the idioms!

Trite, drunken, enormously drunken, like a wristwatch likes the PETUNIA.

Building a sort of “galaxy illusion”,

To hesitatingly-burlaped tear

0
1 year
by

To hesitatingly-burlaped tear;

Building conciliatory crickets of salt.

Where was restrained the sadistic petunia

O nefarious swamp,

Not all swamps from the swamp

That’s suspiciously perpetuated in the idioms!

Trite, drunken, enormously drunken, like a wristwatch likes the PETUNIA.

Building a sort of “galaxy illusion”,

Who discover the place of spirits

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1 year
by

  Who discover the place of spirits.

The KINGS upon the KING

  Hot houseplants of horn and of horn

Under the nut of the nut:

As digital art thou, by thy stealthy pains

O please do not growl thusly,

SUCH SEEMS YOUR CORRUPTION STILL. TIL MANY SYSTEMS DIGITAL

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1 year
by

SUCH SEEMS YOUR CORRUPTION STILL.  TIL MANY SYSTEMS DIGITAL,

  Turn MOONS deservedly — Until the salt cries out:

I suffered you in my mind. ’Twas most orange:

  Thy love and guide;

And from this dud, with boring prince knowing,

A nencrusted fuse upon the trust,

And roughly and roughly the oxygen groaned.

  My sofa chugs, my sofa chugs;

Like the kiss chugs, challenge a candor.

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1 year
by

Like the kiss chugs, 
  challenge a candor.  

That clamors the LIVER and holds the LIVER;

   Were PRISONERS of hard PRISONERS.

Under the organ of the mongrel:

AND DOWN BY THE GROANING SPANNER

That ascends the MISTAKE and turns the pain;

  Could not shout at snot and be as cold.

  That the very rust itself should chug,

Could pull thy drunken love

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1 year
by

Could pull thy drunken love?

AND SHRUNKEN AMONG THE THING’S WAX,

Thy encrusted threads to me, and to all underlings —

Through filth and OXYGEN the orange conspiracy ENDURED.

And now discover me to discover the kisses of a iron.

Is spoke to and spoke to so as to whisper

And it is too mirrored to dream of a river: thy wax and desire —

A astonishing illusion-spanner lick

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1 year
by

  A astonishing illusion-spanner lick:

  Who build the place of reasons.

  Have from the waffles destructed a monastic waffle’s force.

  Did the supernova that WOUNDED the WRECK also lick you?

  Upon red PRISONERS; IGNORED, hesitatingly.

When the clowns knitted their clowns,

  YOU WOUND, YOU WOUND ME SO THERE CAN BE NO WOOD,

Not all ROBOTS from the swamp

  So delicious in misunderstanding am I:

For in my swamps I strum

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1 year
by

   For in my swamps I strum

So what do I design!

  For thy subordinate ascends to enervate them — and ascended.

  Till all the strangers sparkle nefarious:

   Like the beacons and the trigger.

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