Wednesday, October 21, 2009

An Alpaca, Llama and Guanaco

An ironclad lad trotting after an Irish woman twittering at the sky;
Jawless fish or is it a loris drawn in Mercator projection

Huh, said I . Is the mercury or the merocrine making you taste savory
It was a Saturday. We we all wearing our satchels, high and ready for a good wank
Even the tadpoles came out to play with us- a synergic euphoria

We left the rotunda in search of a good roof for romance as according to Romance law
Brisk, stupid, religious to happiness
We found a nice one with a bay window underneath.

We conversed. Remembering nothing, saying little.
'The Remoulade in this sandwich has too mayonnaise."
"There's a lot of non-words in the dictionary; non vegetarian, nonreundant, nonJew, nonrigid, nonuniversal.
"My mind is littered, I feel it."
"I majored in hieroglyphics."
"I studied eristics and it didn't get me anywhere and here, somewhere, I feel Eros."
"Muck! Lost Espial! Cookie!
"Stop the bourgeois Caliban."
With no noticeable end. It went on.

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