It was not a mere fish he caught, radically a benign flounder, created from a dream by an overseeing founder, deep within the knowledgeable mind of a strumming, drumming sounder, as a child banging tins with a hardened rubber pounder, dipping his rod into the lake that’s perpendicularly rounder, it was not a mere fish he caught as he sat on the ground, aah
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Glance at the phone, contacting no-one, letters unopened, see bygones be gone, lie in a darkened room, while not wanting to venture outsid...
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Clean light does not shine here anymore magnolia walls have become dirty to the floor grey linoleum floors sticky past directional tape the... -
Movement is to do, better still not! It is a feeling, a moment in time a thought or a critique sublime never mind the bullshit be easy on ...
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