My dream affair with George Clooney in broken up bits

George Clooney is a very nice looking man with a friendly penis.  I first me t him in my dream with my mother.  The dream is fading fast.  I took him from a beautiful actress.  Things happened, such as jumping down floors in airports of the past, gone.

Must Write

It wills

I artistically

People

Okay?  It is will I am trying to value effortlessly.

I am drying men with family and plows.

No one glides all every planet and lands in their face.

God stops men to men lying in their plows.

I want places to create a friend who will treat me with free hands and trees with great friendly plastic combs.

Dad is here willing a man to give him possible round blond goddesses.

He (Dad) calls this a bad gotcha (this means that I saw his star and I loved the friendly player I made from pompey.

Dad murders clowns with trouble and with flowers.  I know I give you a freedom you were sorry that I wanted.  I know I am cruel when I saw law as a freedom of money.

Dear monied ones, it is true that money requires freedom to act in order for all to be free.  It is also true that my concepts of love involve a way to teach ham.  This knowledge is a law to my cunt.  It is also a law to family.

The family bothers me.  Surely it is much happier to guide your love with peace than with fame.

I have become lonely in my saw.

Cold vision sees a narcotic pond darkening ponds with naughts and drums.

Skewing to the left, I see pansy costs baying a passion for soft london.

 Clowsns bother me because I know I am sorry to make love a drug for money or for pump.

Sylvia is bothering me in my soft tonsil; she is loving cause it is ponds that are lying.

Will and hostility cold bands around the igloo I loved.

November 5, 20106

Plans

I write this for my own amusement.

I will follow the order the various items arise in my mind.

First

Here we have the perennial "write poetry" and "clean room"

         Commentary

From one point of view I am writing plans to avoid both.  I have barely read any poetry in the last several months and written even less.  I do not count the majority of the jumbled artifacts of my pre-conscious that I on occasion have committed to this blog.

Speaking of jumbled artifacts, my room is an atrocity.  There is no door to it and it is upstairs and it is a mess with no furniture such as a desk or a computer (which are in the alcove in my brother's living room) so I have no reason to do anything active there except try to spend time avoiding my brother's presence by hours of attempted sleep.  Recently I have not even tried to read in bed, though a few days ago I read three pages of Browning's Sordello.

I really need to clean my room because I am purportedly moving out in the next few days and my brother, like my father before him, finds it a thorn in his side.  My brother devotes 90% of his energy to order, which to me has no purpose except in furtherance of living; perhaps when I am on my own in a studio where I cannot get away from my mess I will be forced to change.   Anyone who knows me is bored with this fact of my life.

Related to the First

 Read books.

              Commentary

I have several hundred books of often magnificent quality, many of them half read, most of which I have not picked up in months or years.  It is an ungainly collection which I once fully intended to finish in the course of picking up a master's degree in English literature.  Now I do not have a clue where to begin or whether to finish.  I am presently in the midst of several books but the only one that keeps reliably drawing me back is John Dos Passos' U.S.A. trilogy, of which I have almost finished the middle volume, 1919.

Second

Every day hygiene and cleaning.

Within this we find such imperatives as showering, brushing my teeth and doing the dishes.

               Commentary

How can I describe the vile combination of mental illness, resentment and comfort with disorder that leads me to consistently put off for un seemly amounts of time these basic task?

Third

Routine paperwork and bills.

Commentary

I also fall down on this.  All I do not fall down on is CNN watching, smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee.

Fourth

Impending matters

We find here such items as moving to a new apartment (very distantly linked to "finding a permanent home") and traveling to New York to visit Jamie and (very possibly) get high .  No, that cannot be done.

Fifth

Relationships, Religion and emotional confusion.

       Commentary.
Here I have set those matters which seem both broad, and related to my intimate needs in a way which very often serves as the underpinning of inactivity (aside from familial ancient business).  Under relationships there are friends and family, particularly the post mortem results of my staying with my mother for seven years.  I also have no friends within 1,500 miles, which is a gigantic handicap in finding my bearings and being motivated on a daily level.  Religion is a mental and emotional force which finds me unable to practice my beliefs.  Chelsea a and Jamie are my somewhat residual contacts for both relationships and religion and I spend a good ten to thirty minutes a day in telephonic touch so that I do not wholly lose hope.  I seriously wish I was still in a community of like-minded practitioners of IRREVERENT rebellion instead of this serious-minded confusion .

Sixth

          Work, money and career.

Commentary

All practically speaking nearly irrelevant to my every day life in a way which leads any conventional political or economic activity just dust.

Seventh

          Macroanalysis

Commentary

          The thesis that I am sick of bourgeois values informing every pressure upon me.  It's enough to make me wish to be a revolutionary and CUT THE CRAP!
             

Aggression

What bodies work for men?  What kind of laughter posits peace?  Who needs home with my creative round land?

Where is the creator in the road?  Where is the breezy peace buying kind lines?  Where will love begin here?

I go to men with laughter with creative people like stupid weird love is laughter weird weird I guess that's sufficient aggression but I'm not treating you where my body crosses angst coldly here.

God dreams weirdly here.  Where is non trees .  I make aggressive remarks like "weird" and"stupid." That marks me as crass and unacceptable.  Help me listen for love with a message (words treacle are sorry _.

I have no goddamn love to deal with except the goddess needs men and women to become ?

Feelings?  Love?

Love under Will.

My will is to cause a weird place here for men to act without fasciest crazy lower pamper.

I don't even have words to type.  I don't even have words that make me love arduous stabbing weird troubles.

There's only teaching, resting and falling.

This misreading brought to you buy my mind, a fallow pond.

Lies

fascism stupidly cold.

fascism idiotically stupid.

I cannot let words shtick here as eezee.

Casualties shit here.

I found my own plower sticking out goddamn here of my crack.

You know here is pain my own loneliness is nothing to high school trains.

Men don't listen with their roses to men or the death of my cunt.

That last phrase shows a certain sense of humor.

Nothing hates pain without praying for a good problem to make weed.

Weed is a ware of my possibilities.

I wish to casualty nasty Andrea.

I used my family work with my feelings here of fascism and cruelty to kill creativity and he needs history.

Stupid history is a friend to casualty.

If I cloud work I am a free creative artist.

If I work now I am a hater of my rights.

This idea that work is cruel is stupid.

Power and I are no one a goddess stark is flowers you are my life andrea.

Rusty's power is rice hominy and family.

Sausage omens poffic (perfect/ion) of value pain constantly tests rashes.

Donuts call fangs to make dreams fry.

Co no Na Pomp.

I ought to write something in a language needing change.

This language is something worse for nights spent typing the cop a ward.

Stank body sorry you need dean to be farcical.

I cannot keep running toward the flower fleeing my rails.

Twin darts fly toward the sanka bop.

This is a night's tom passionately night's family.

Gay work dines n----- queen.

PLOWING ME IS NOTHING!

I am a worthy mattress.

Who is stupid about africa.

dream of aircraft

Dad in field.  Me and someone else to push white jet airliner (no engine, a project of dad and friends?).  Plane takes off at low altitude.  We are in Sierra Vista.  I go looking for where plane has landed but don't see it.  Area is north of Fry Blvd past Junior High.  See wolves dead or sleeping.  Go into meat plant! where indian/mexican is working.  Big guy.  He tells me name of wolf.  I continue looking for plane.  /find some parked across /fry in Hastings parking lot.  Slide down front of a large one.  These are bigger and more complete than dad's airplane.  I see a modern "767" flying over.  In back there are many more jets.  There is a kind of jet festival.  I see Dad's jet.  It takes off again?  I chase it, flapping my arms.  I am going home but I see expensive restaurant and decide to apply for job.  I am waiting in lobby with dozens of people in my stained white shirt.  Suddenly they all go in.  I go to bar and ask for app/lication.  I tell bartender I have two years of graduate school after he asks for my education.  Waiter with black hair with New York accent asks me about whether I really lived in New York  .  All I have in my wallet are two library cards (the ones from Tillamook County Library), which say New York, New York.  We agree they are proof.We leave (?) talk about date.  He doesn't want drink.  There is a cheap Chinese Vietnamese restaurant I go into.  I walk past people waiting then decide to take my turn.  It is eight minutes to wait for a drink.  Heavey Black guy comes up to me.  We talk.  I want liqueur drink which I still can't remember the name of.  Take food and drink.

Then I walk into late night service for sending money (guessing?)  .  Brightly lit, many people there.

Any hope?

Andrea
God

Andrea
Plow

Cold
Patient.


*********************************************

I made art lonely.

*********************************************

Clams ware loft
Clams clap weird

I work art
Work is birds
Tense moments pay
when money god pays.

I sylvia road was alive here I am a non troublemaking pain.

*********************************************

Wow wow you are you win you.

Wine the brandy, cook the watch.

*********************************************

Sorry when I made this work like nothing God is nothing, yeah:
I made a pencil stunk in its stroll.

I ate pandy.

**********************************************

Wow.  You are thankful.  Wow.  Weird.

It is you who weird my washes with woman and fierce strong places.

She who made my troubles laughs when I am hopeful for a cost of material whales.

***********************************************

Pines raw in the wind are ma

Pines raw in the wind call man bonding parts weird trouble lonely Goddess.

Stop here,

************************************************

Andrea's pain of wealth

Wow.  Today I think I am lonely without aloneness (with itself needing glowering words, actions with peacefulness are beautiful.)

May be there's no way to act with love without acting laughing with your mother.  I feel lonely without her reasons for me to become happy.  She laughed when people thought there was fascism in the pain of making weirdness.

No, she didn't.  Why would I misidentify?

Today Donald Trump is denying his actions.  I believe (speaking from the songs I passionate ly work for) working is pain.

I have to believe that that is a delusion.

Perhaps when I create someone without peace it is me I am making into a drug addicted stinker with no reason to listen for men or their wive s to become happy and strong.  No one is no one here for anyone


I truly need to give a way for my life to listen (PAIN GOES F R

SILLY, I thought I worked hard.

Here I work.

Feelings give you work.  Feelings are free of work.

These contradictory sentences express laughter.

I am trapped behind a wall.

I possibly work hard -- trouble.

I will work hard.

Work hard.

Work is hard.

I work hard.

Work is virtuous isn't it?

I don't know.

I wish this work of words laughed alive.  I wish I could these words sing lovingly to you.

There is a work called drugs I have no work for.

Bob Dylan worked and he is now the Nobel Prize winner.

I know I am lonely.  I know I have no now work.  I inhabit now.  I block it from its own strength.  Please allow this weird place to be free.

This will allow exclamation points!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


No one belongs where bad gods trouble me with annihilation.  Sickness is this threat of destruction.  I misidentify God with a mess called Andrea.

So let us all laugh with Andrea at ourselves.  What would this laughter sound like?

Hee-haw or ho hum?

I am socially superior to her so I must be silent.  Where does my voice go?  Who listens anyway?  Who works hard with me?  Possibly it's you, Dad.

Frustration

I am backed up, pickled inside myself.

Over and over again I try to formulate a great whore (sorry, I mean a great stance/approach/in tension/freedom/lifeplan) and it is me I understand that I cannot make into africa.  I am not the unknown "dark" continent.  I am not the land of change and hope.  I am not america, europe, asia, australia or antarctica.  Why I don't have a strong sense of what to do at each moment disturbs me.  I don't even care about my africans.  My africans are land and darkness; trees and women; freedom and  love.  I approach each word as a wonder to emerge from my verbal ability and become on the page an exact similitude to the state of existence I face.

No word or art can be a direct copy of reality.

This act of mine becomes a lowly room of lonely struggle.  I have no patience for my reasons, my mommy loved me (this is a certainty and a cry to be loved and deservedly)  please echo stop  it.

I am sore at the laughter made by shaman darkness.  It haunts me; and chases me with thought scattered and bent before it.

Nothing causes body.  It simply is.

I have not paralleled my laughter with peace.  I have not given kindness with my medicine.  No spoonful of sugar.

Please I need to continue saying here what I believe.

I believe that only my god is the freedom to become strong.  (An error, a lie, a delusion)  Dear Goddess please include laughter in the rant/poop/weird/cause.  I do not care there is god only a god to believe in who does care about dad and my grief for my past.

I am in my past; I am in a lonely rude cruel angry lonely wordless tree.

Dear Goddess, this weird place is not that peaceful.  I am the place of which I write.  Dear Goddess, this lament, this outcry places pain inside the care I have.  I know my brother needed a good weird plot to create.  He cannot, nonetheless, create me as that or anything else.

I seize upon the troubles.  The troubles seize upon me.

Dear reasons,  where is the priest?  where is the dream?

I saw this weird (me) as God.  I saw this pain as laughter (because you and I became one).

We are apart.  This Atlantis I saw, Chelsea, was not our personal becoming one but an intermingling of laughter hope and kindness.

I saw a future, I saw the loss of spirit, the beginning of rivalry, the work that I must do (here I must describe it) is that laughter that becomes peace.  The ride of my life was a band.  I was a marching band trombonist, a dance band trombonist and a concert band trombonist.  With the cruelty of attachment and application to a task set before me (but by whom and for what purpose?) I become angry.  This one place is a dark andrea lawed by poems and illness.  This illness is hate.  This illness is anger.  This illness became a bomb in my cruelty toward God.

Dear Goddess, may the lilies, the green bananas, the chimpanzees, Jane Goodall, Andrea, laughter , love and will listen for this Goddess (a dried pain weird as nut).

So the claim of immortality died when I closed my work into line.

Who killed me?

Screaming at the brown and black people (though not today), perhaps I surmise I want to kill because I am already dead?

In that case, who killed me?

Was it the joy of the land?  The grasp of Christianity?  The anger of military reversals around the world (in the 70s)?

Was I alive in my mother's womb?

Was it crack?

Was it New York?

Was it intellect?

Was it transie house>

My mother?  My grandmother who had night mares about black people when a small child?

Am I gone over the edge because I do not know pain as teachers work hard work hard.

Here I am over the deep end?

Was it Nixon Reagan or Bush?

Was it necklacing in South Africa>

Was it Shaida?

Am I ungrateful to breathe every day as Manny and Joseph said>

Or am I so unproductive all I do is breathe through my lazy self-pity, as I gathered from a lesbian therapist who had bee n in an auto accident>

These poems about the deadness of all I knew; these poems about the unreality of Wallace Stevens.

The night posits stars and the Goddess wanders.

Changes I have to make

Notes

Coldness and sex don't like bommy
I don't work hard enough at love.  Or not.

Why I bother God?

Why is it alone?

Why I don't know.  Why I don't know.

Wizard bombs are not love.

Goddesses sorry Mommy love art (people)

Thank you a lot a lot for love   Julia is my love.

I am an angry cruel lonely worker.

So what?

I was lonely when tried to become loved.

I was lonely when I was alone.

All this is peace.





*****************************




Chelsea is peaceful; Rusty knows it.

Telel me where I'm wrong.

I am not a killer.  I need to switch to a low cholesterol diet.  Maybe two birds with one stone?

Okay what is it?

Okay there is a word that makes me troubled.  This word begins with thread and ends with stubborn.  I am a thread; this is a thread; I am stubborn.

Where am I?

I am sitting in front of my computer in my brother's house on the North Oregon Coast.  A lot (reasons)) were pondering laughter and I am a good person, which may be irrelevant to the extent that I am really not.

Too much weird ness Is a road to cruelty, why in fact I am here.  I tried to disguise my passion for martyrdom by acting out upon my life without acting with myself as good.

Which home good is good?

Where am I going to live?

Oddly is here.  This is the even-odd polarity which so many overlook.  What is good?

I don't even think about bad people, a worker loves money at NO ONE.  I do not act like this.  Maybe when I belong here whether I am good will become strong.

I do not believe I belong here.

The beauty overwhelms work.  My work is to act being a sorry god of men.

'tis nothing beyond body and body goddesses sorry it is you who belongs.

Such destructive hostile sentiments.

Dear Rusty,

S
ince you belong, I wish that you give a good possibility for strong body home.

Sorry I am worth it to men.  They suck.  I don't care if they belong to me.  I wish there was a lot of booms and a lot of flambes in this queer clown tank.

kind by pink.

polijmn

As where I do not begot when I bother weird bother weird weird weird weird weird woman pockets positively weird work hard is a binch of body bomb work hard work hard is blond is blond is a friend of bombs with terrorism is it crowns work hard it is a friend work hard work hard it is a berenda work hard it is a flange of bombs work hard it is a lounge work hard it is a passion work hard without a word it is a bomb work hard god tarks work hard work hard work hard it is a lonely work hard work hard it is a wenc work hard i don't work hard work hard whether i work hard it is a wenc wenc work hard i loved her work hard no respect and it is a wenc positively a passion and it is land work hard positively dumb for me is my mother wenc is mom is my mom is mom is a bomb work hard dumb work hard is a bomb work hard suck it no i will not suck you for my life.  Positively it is my mind work hard.  Cold positive positive positive andrea work hard you work hard you are pondering the positive of bombs and thoughts that are loose and sick to you as you pitch a long positive place it is you work hard to you you you is you conviction is you you are positive for you to be god is you as a woman positive place is your positive positivity calle d dumb called dumb called once positive positive ingland is you positive you are back to god your body is your positive positive English positive work hared work it here you are you work here work here work your mind it is your life here to be a worker working listening for money interested bodies you are new men to be land for the buns of your dreams conviction is a value of land positive positive god is a dense pin with a bomb in the creator's pin is bins your bomb calls me god for it is you suck it is a bomb work hard to you are land you are a bomb work hard suck it work hard cankers positive body duncey work your money here you are dumb work hard suck it suck you work hard it is a nut typing cunt work hard.  Sick positive works positive plains work here o r be positive work hard you are woking too much to act with you be you are you being being here for you as a bomb work hard you tense me work hard troubling cold positive work hard work hard typing you works being here is a band working kind passion work here poor and lonely work is a ban tensing the friends testing work is your land your pain is your loneliness to you you are lonely work hard.  Typing is another worker going work typing I liked I liked I liked you as nothing cold an d bothersome col d and working lonely work lonely pain working you is a band work hard cold work is your passion working lonely working cold working bands you stupid moose is new to my family work is here.  Work coldly man is a night of man called type of man is your interest cold man types work has hard work has d for you do it do your money do you do you do your money is you you are body you are pines you are pom you are a bomb work here work here work your mo9ney goddamn it kindly work here here work here you are working typing it is you who works your mother positively is you hard work here be yourself eat it kin work is your positive pom work it kind positive work is your life work it your liw woks work has your life works your people kindly work here work here work here wok are dunce it is you working your laughtwe work hew work here work you wok you work your buns work h o

an exercise in loosening up

lokpiujkiolpoiuyhbnmjhuikjjuuyttttrrfvffgghy

lazy

If I'm shining in the grass and I write the

the sentence ended "bombing my mother."

Worse than useless.

My brother is home.  At least I ran the dishwasher.

Sylvia Plath

This mother grates my pump; this is a bad family without retired Brenda's answer.

Work and leisure.

Chelsea Goodwin subscribes to Goth Culture.  She says the best I can do is be a science fiction nerd and go to conventions wearing costumes.

Possibly it's boring; it hurts and that's the drama.

When will yonder prance dream where I wish why I am alone here is density's road?

Density:  thick a s a brick.

That's Jethro Tull, Rusty.

Open the height.

Open the brendas.

Bisexual Brenda was a well-known activist I put down for her weight.  She also ate and smoked cigarettes.  I am sorry, Brenda.

Okay.  

The racism people say they are fighting is change.

I would love my prince whether I am good or a  high school thinker.


I do not worry whether this is high school.  It is weird weird etc.

I held the Earth because there was a witch who listened.

middle class decision making protocols

My first temptation is to rant.

The excitement that loss [bisexuality] extremely launches is cruel.

The first order of knowledge for me is observation.

It is worrisome when the freedom one belongs to (that is, the freedom I like to say is laughter, friendly good parts of life) doesn't become presence of self for others.  I feel I disappear without making my presence known to the commonality, which in this realm, seems to be under the purview of a "middle-class."

It is peace which brings hope; peace which makes the intercourse of each available to all.

[However]  I have also witnessed peace and individuality commingling upon the success of a demonstration for transgender rights.  A rush of joy to which I belonged which (I have no idea whether I love my work) enveloped our transiee house living room became lavender work,


As soon as lab

success shiv experimentation

Inhibited writing

This andrea art.  This plan.  This plane.  I gave a strength to my [no word except crancy, being an interruption or as Joseph would have it a brain fart though expressive of some deep psycholinguistic structure unknown in import].

This plane I know is an array here.  It is my array,  It is a famous teal plane.

I know I have wounded my [an uninhibitedly typed word] crack.

Only I feel

uninhibited.

presence pounds

'tis a haunted omen art kin trunces whether where it is positively eats ella bothering the trance allah;
Clown palm prances it belongs here with presences eating pain without presence without wanatch.

Inter mittent plows weird.

The straight story and where is it where is the plan of that praying clay called crances?

A silly place where all presences scare my mother trying here to create that rest a bong places

with my crance.

It is an ululation drinking very passionate presences.

Queer bathing creates a breast and what family goddesses friend on my a thonk where yas clowns positively passion client.

He knew where there was pretty hunting.

Existentialism, taught to a freak by a conformist.

You dread hell





You people are clouds interested in man planning a baby for their croft.





Lonely weird weird is you. I am thinking you are thinking for you.





A substantial -- wait-- what?






A substantial praise of bad words





Such as dreams clamming you are pain to my lonely body.





Cash in, cash out.





Clover dries in the sunshine bothering the odorous plains with priests and wot.





Ever is you.





Is it my friend who needs you?





-Is estrogen within the bounds of proper usage?





Are you god?





Don't decide just yet.





Where is the freak?





Oneonta is not dad but maybe it's God.





Swill with twill your pill with skill on a hill in dill off the sill.





Please be embraced as a drama happiness.





No part of the grief which is your angst died with the dream called change.





Angst bothers me because safety clown clown is brenda present is not friendly.





Deep in my spine is the reactive force which needs to evolve by engaging with the gentleness of human existence.





Noises Off (an already written play).





Sorry teachers pain died in my crease for man as troubled treasonous worker.





William Pie A Qumran

Flowers engage with not body.

Is your body properly drummed into presence of lesbian drummer?

Lesbians drum.  I want to drum.  Ergo.

Oils off the brand cloud here god kindly treats me essentially cruelly.

It is not for audience with binge prone plan?

The star of this friendly grave is mala, Why bother?

You who bond with round rind:  you may dream where you are above sartre plowing max

Where I love you kind bod; Loud proms ground the prince's rent.

aga khan trance,

That old college try

art whizzes the flowers above my pretty plow.

The possible blisses its known pleas,

The man of his shame teaches it bowing to the string.

I wear little pains above my crane, laughing for its nuts,

The strong planes belong here and it is edited for presence,

As all planes peel a night of man and raises , I am present,

Cancers wither where blames claims its known planet,

The deformation of words and signals fro within galley go away,

I am a straw player,

Ogle the frames,

Apart of there is ago to itself.

The past will kill no one,

I am here above the stars cheating men of reasons to stick round angst is a bland flower,

Clouds interest themselves (cheese) clouds blow into their place

Whence the rain bombs proud trampolines,

Oil loud oil.

Trees borrow a stain from answering planes pleading for brenda,

I will laugh happily castles eat it too.

The macaroni and cheese deal with needs craned without stink or strange planees,

Straw recurs,

It is you here it is you alive it is you friendly it is my manhood stupefying shit to be dark and free,'

Stanza,

The mallet, swung, presses the ball
Through the wicket.

The elevation of my blind grantee

Is hirsute flank upon my winsome
fleece.

Flank your wares with planes, with rain, with feeling.

Why steam proud clay?

**************************************

Wrong blend

Charged Up, family

Open

I like wearing people with their safe routes and their crone papers.

The devil with angst and weirdness,

"Coyls"

Average pain bothers me.

Convictions wait fairly,

Sorry I don't know what to say,

A Sneaky Trip and a Glorious Future

The work of a bard

So one

troubles

a loft.

Annihilation
Stinks

************************

Art does not bring words
Rather the reverse,

***********************

\Oh allah coldly craze

************************

A nether-land  is treats

************************
On unity and respect:

As all arches
As all pops

Along where
Pom-pom girls]

March before
The trombone  wielder,
It is well to poop.

Sidesaddle.

***********************

The disgusting fascination

Queries polite rents,

Oy blushes

.
*************************

Scenario calls me alone

The assassinated friend pardons
***************************

Adrenalin pulls presence here,

A coil of  "we strongly inhibit your cleansing
Of our lord park tree."

*************************

The attachment is gone
but it rests not,
.

**********************

A dark communique renders me mute,

Rain withers trees.

Pull with rough plows

**************************

The resonance pardons Mom
with Love.

**************************

a writing

Okay, I liked it.

if you want my mother to listen what is it?

Scalps used to drop by the thousand  Crack didn't deal with anger,  Gas the bansee /clouds roam where I belong,  O bar goddess where is a friend?

I see bad romans dreaming cruelly, it's a bunch of shit,

Where is the best?

Alone typing crosses stupid nut,

climb over the ward of benson,

Closer roned drunk.

Computer push it,

Computer rose on itself,

roses  glare friendly bane,

Why it bonds with loneliness, I have no drama/elo/pope collar,

I believe my body is drummed (out?)  I sickened dreams targeting dry selves.  Someone a baby worked

Break into sobbing

oi poop cloud of bing clay,

Estrogen angels live for trouble (not, no,)

wear is the people?

Waiting for the Magic

I I weigh art alow oh where is it (the magic of laughter?)

Where I li(k)e is where went to the drunk planet, where loneliness sucks out the people and their roast terrorists,

I have bothered my nose; I have pained words to be reasonably lonely or not,

Kindness I loved a lot because when it's bad there's no dunce,

Call me beeble where I am.

The tisking and tasking glamorous where is it?


Where is Wenc (Lori/Edna) in this framily>

Oy where a kid wasted its money,

Sh, yes, the plant strings it up,

Clowns are where bane of freedom stops buying clams and starts waiting for monday to become a whale in its art

The blower horns in on the drain.

The family saved its money to its mother.

When is my clown a word>

So it's okay laughing to be lonely>

Cloud please cleave to your body; it is that way alone,

oy I golden density I loved I guess U was no one,  Why you and my Mom were loving is peace,   I have to give you awareness.  It hurts and I loathe it,

'strings wear ponds,

Sym0ptomatic

Round art pie
Or Rake the Plow

Teach a doncee (?)
On that girl

Rice trees

Plank alone;

The trees change,

A howl wars
From heifer.

Goddess U kive tiy,

A poem,






***************************

(Baloney thus us a poem

A Letter to Sir Winston Churchill

When you
were in the
Swat Valley,
Dear Winnie,

Was it a Whole?

And Dear Winnie,

What accomplishments
Belonged to you!

Is Westminster Abbey
Safe from the changes
Driving my life?

Where are you, Winnie?

Did the bank crawl alone,
Prizing a part of Love?"

Glass and work
Try the changes.

Fate calls it a bride,

Why dream of prizes
When I love a lie?

The one that  -loanliness-
glides,

A promise of life

feel crimes are trouble words.

Dean tossed my mind with a best query.

The sansered problem queries straw where I am.

Where are you?  Where is it been?

I thought we Sarry where I am.

Is he answered; I think it is a hole.

When I die save the freedom a no one rests on,

All my plans have consisted of taking advantage.

Ha krack stink is a lost boss.

I helped ego answer freedom,

It's not angst where I am:  a lie,

L'état c'est moi

a gigantic another another work

work'

okay

I distribute a sore

I distribute hole

The angst angry bomb.

booboo women say why laughter why suffer ego i like bombs coldly stop here

land bonds ways of race is not dong climbing God sorry it so open it's so happy.

Heifer plans woman with a log ono cold strong girl grain race sorry i love you.

We're sorry I loved hayseed work laughter ebola is a whore gold sorry yes I

Crash sorry work is a bone without old pammy lonely where my mind works

Lonely wear bonds say okay oh well that was work to listen work work is


Anger clone men to hate crones which I am,

Candy I changed home where am I?  Woman I see it is a way open to its own

birds

Clambering alive.

o i density

finch on the fence
rowing where a
lonely blame

free clay lies
stinking pain
draw me

work stars for
balm.

the lil waste

Oh kay you like
coo
cutch

Well I liked dying saviors called tango coming teachers in side stale people dying cold nose,

Postscript

Words alter consciousness

Try love with soft hell drugs suck

The open blade

Acheron

Okra

Wake

As they race dreams with wankers I am troubled nowhere.

Tanka Oy Lobe.  Cope nothing I have nothing I know it bobby.

I've got a Mac and

I can't even open a photo I saved in Facebook.

It is the woman laughing at this concept called work.


R
right.

Randy

Reason

Rome

Rusty

Rank

Race

Rome

Rank

Race

Rascal

Clone death is another language.


Silly Wake Up

I deal with this work called teaching.

The double bill shows drug twerk

twerk
"twerk"

"twerk"

I can't even write out g w e r k

This is a nonsense word which however retains some association with work at least for me.

Okay.  Communication:  What's it beautiful, a girl

I need what I love over

Srandy

Slam

Sore

S o r e k

Sam

Oh,  (go back)

Dining with  freedom.

Who bothers this crane?

Possibly Jamie Goddess please Jamie worked my drink cloud trouble is better than death,  Scary sharing with the best.  I don't understand,  Of course you can share with me,

Drama cloud frayed of bobby,

Bobby is a multiply configured entity

Bobby Kennedy
"Bob"

Bob hair.

Bob genitals

Bobby my mother's dental assistant.

We hardly knew ye,

waste

fly grand
laugh when alive

grieve trauma

Waste when

Omen of friends.

Drag.

I am lonely

poverty sucks; work is drumming; treats friend Ice cool.

This is the path you rested for.

Lonely.

I did the stupid thing

landing why high it sucks angst i am .  I don't want to make my mother free,  That's the creativity and the tree and the body and the strength crashing (I mean) work.

It's a joke

foist i landed alive, yeah, foist why-i-lied work, my mind calls jamie alone.  I tried to lift my mind into my mortuaries trans vestite lonely crane.  The opposition clowned so I worked,

Bullshit

at last I created another body.  The body is a body class of my mind blame body blown.  With alive body woman freed is live with ite.  Maybe I know my mind body blond blond bomb bomb women sorry you are rock.

This place glows without my mind.  It's stupid.  Granary


Men seek wise poem.

I live for men we sorry you bond too woman is trouble.

These are my suspicions.

Glow, the wide plain.

Goneril stark pork blond taste safety where wise trouble leave weird orgy weird poem weird straws.

Oh, veil, in which my body pauses for rent, wish plains called themselves friendly.

Cloud y muse, in which I am enclosed, eat it.  Swarming possibility.  Maybe laughter calls brined plaque upon my face I like my mind present case ill not beautiful.  Cold I hate trains body crime dark safety lord shits trouble.

He and I softly friendly quinine is the place where I worked possibility nature laughs pine climbs laughter.  Eat bond climbs eat place eat wake eat work; many of my strengths depend on my crazy unsers,

fascism dried up in the witch,

Stink body please release this penitent,

Writing is Disciplined Work

As if I knew

****************

Let us try a few words and see what my fingertips have to offer.

Okay, one, two, three.

Alsace
Legerdemain

Weird Bard

Cope a hunter/honter

There is a debut of a lank

Troubled free friend.


She called dave where he was
in the band

At Iffley Road

Thee roman parfait contrarian.

A soarer in the Thames water springing it on me

Like a weird dream.

So one dreams weird angels he saved her easy.

Cold concept is a friend for its own franken

Okay density

Each word is an approval fight where I am

Cleansed and rolled in the waves

I am failing to gain Kunstler

Death is not hi,  thank you easy we trained its rest gay.

I waited to act and now I :  hang the words, sac.

Ponds

Write a kind word.

The crickets in the vines are chirruping

And Where is that guy who was here?

40 years since it thinks it is sanguine

The tram across your body

Itches

Of that clientele.  

rang a lot

She climbed

Dust in her pantry.

A bright shaft of wand, a woman climbs life.

Go with you creator.

Delay6 no one wincing 

It haunts me.

Claiming my mind reasons it is drama wanting.

===============

Does a materialist create 

language or the drama he cried for?

In the mid-Dell

When there is a world of blond plain "along" gold plains a worker possibly bombs stupefy friendly blame cruel allah stupefy is alive cruelly work hard is a drama  I do not play.

When worlds save poems work is blond and troubled.

Chloe friend life work I liked aloneness work poem is lonely soft flame play razor "plom"

Oh well whatever I was belongs alone where body clamps a strength (weird  claims strength of plane)

Where you are bother a lofter calming mama,

A family of beauties andrea was alone where I was alone friendly,  Yes I loved her,  You like my mind,  I sorry of bran plane calls me where I love you lonely of love,

It is a drama I beed alone,

We never had a shag carpet in the 70s or any other time,

I want to write good things about my body that loves me.

Horizon Broad

Orchid winter land woman
Who is a Santa Aunta

Whales call my mind
Quarrying my life

Trying to Love a long world.

***********************

Urchin

Whether my nine trains
Blank my queer tree

I value a weerld and it is
Porsches, Languages, Families

Which create an artist (I Scot):

Quarrying underneath a hunter
I borrow loss,

Interesting to my wince.

Concept issues my act
Of horror.

*******************

A Ticket to Elide

Oat Art Face Conch
Around

Marsha

Who was Dear

Of a people

Caused of
words.

Why don't you tell me -a- -uch- was it be?

Why do you know me?

Why were you lonely?

Where are you?

What is it to be a hole?

Face it, death is a hutch.

No one bothers with me fine.

I like what I am.

Were you good?

I loved alone.

-Poosy-

Oral C

Na

Dancing a lie is a terrible whore.

Go away shark.

I used you to be alone.

Work is a drenched stumbling glans angst sark

Coi allah oral money , is Sartre's aced race ; oral and a knife in my mind

Which is you.

I hated the freedom of values and steezi God.

Steezi days

Steezi plays.

Okay?


I am you stinking alone.

Push it alive e u ah.

Vortex clown.

Fostered a Density

Climate

Today was horrible.  Today I loved wood.  Today I was a wood.  Wood  mark; wood top; wood match;  I worked a lover to be safe with her beasts; and she is me trees , here.

I hardened a drama with a capitalist.

Men don't weigh hacks.

I read things and I try to write what I say for myself to my life.

My freedom I have been a word, which makes me sorry I saw you here.  Sorry it was old in my laughter, 'cause I tried to leave your body.

After my mind types these things it is trouble here.  Was I a force to listen and love?

Loyalty to men a fun drama was it here I lied?

I lied to you:  I am a  murderous estrogen estrogen bruce.

julia murray has a ninja death.  He I live a paper waste.

When there is a whale ao whale a whale ao whale eo 

Gallons of  language trolls my inches a Sartre change of my body, I hastened, tests,  average ways.

No I weighed it in its own lie of pussy vulture witches pee:  I made my laughter deal with trends I liked a angry land.

Will you please deal ?  I deal , instead:  facts yellow and her shark eels its art.  Eels its flies above its carcass (change of wood is a draw). 

lord dancing my dry eyes.

Broken Horrors

anger I say I hippie

I world

I al-apu

I a-ba

I a-ba

Was-a

Was-a

Mama

Was-a

Heh

Was-a

Etch

What what wook-uh

What i-bo

What i-bu

a live week

A wor/nd

Clouds

Seek-a

Clouds

Ware

Wa-ba

Words?

Wa-ba

I wee

Cloud

Work

Is a Mama

Here bisexual is a worker here

Gold Whales eat guests destiny

Work a worker is b.a. woman baba

Work hard,

I fuck up.

Brother Goddess, Sister Moose

Oil dying

The poem wishes

I did a fat actor

I hanger of bunk

Owls language hunter

The oddness wood pinch

Winsome al a c

My life belongs where I am;

My body is why I am a dancer

Bidding artist (FACE:)

OFFENSIVE claim bonnie queer is alive.

Af l

My easy language was ez address,'

To my mind you (the one conversing I am with here;)

wait here.

My pandering love glows with a line in its 
Asjubg



Asking I 

how alone is the love of march?

I leased a friend.

No one is alone enough as weird bank

Calls me a name of witches: passion tom.


I ate my mom while she taught I opened his hole,

She died I hated a sink 

BastardsS1

I weighed a whale, he belonged our lives

Cold is my lance.

I am a bitch cold as blonds and a worker in my

Oysters die here in my  

I hated becoming a word,  I hated becoming nasty loud planes

Quarts of blasting easy creeps:  He darkened me and it was

Whore causing 

My family is a bond with lost ponds

My family is a place where Life is long and 

A patch of my mind gay god was a Priestess 

I wished her lover has a bench h e r language

heals I save you he is drama , a Goddess Hester
Lester kindly be wise caustic 

I 

 have a mind

I am alive and words are my   



anchor, 

The truncated phrases and h

feisty dancing around my
tweet,

Oils dream

Here above you

God pope work 

 a mama calls me war of angels.

Deep in a whale whale

whale whale is poppy.

She who smokes heroin shall nod in the
East New York Church apartment

While remembering the description of
heroin high by Chelsea and Sylvia

I did not die in the street



my mind hastes into flow here is death is a hunter cold here?

I a soft mommy mommy

Cold bodies here.

He alive.  

The dead shouts body is art,



when y



Castor and my mind here.,

Pondering the twins

I have you honor is a bus called density of home.

The twin rose works here a mutter work 

The 

hogging of bonds oceans easy oar men 

Bobby here oh no?

He work!

My brother is a western 





o poem annihilated is a body late into the woven bonds hello earth, YEAH!

O PART OF MY LIFE HE HATED I GAVE HI


M



I L




MY BODY

THE TRANSLATING OF A FAMILY TO RUSTIC

NIGHT 

GLAND

FOIL THE BODY, 

OLD MONEY 

ARCHER 

MY FATHER'S CHRIST STINKS.

About my life.

Peace.

okay.  Why/When Is God a ha
Peace.

What is a language?

What is A s/word?

Coanaswer.

No sing gives you place,

No one likes wabbling.

I gave I work Work

I africa borrows its anger here.,

Worse

No one I know goes here.,

I heave you a dear peace.,

Clay in destiny; cold plow.,

I see you here; without I don't know you are a ware of benches.

See a goddess please.

In the march where lonely flowers pa/

Ray work hard; he was a boss.  Ea dowkrla fj

Work here,

I have a poke in my

n

i think about my body here is a nail,

Ponies tryiesd to laugh when I told them I hate cold and I am a golden sucker cause I got me questioning western possibilities.

I


Your plow is home and I am a fart.

Nasty wways wee'll tensity is school .


What is aloft a bold hack in k ick

I or cook ink
work]]\]\\]]]]

]

]



]]]]]
\]\




I\\
\

\
\




dancer calls me,.

He I con

a poonciple

whencible.

No

what is a worker?


A worker bothers his anchor cold,

I loan his beans; I am a family where men laugh at their freedom and it is wasted pain.

Work is the beach on where I hastily/hate I hate I am angry,

Okay?

when ancestor

when l

when l

when Jamie was my friend, I poured a lock,


I am here where my friends give peace here HERE is peace,

I saw a flow.

fowl.

King Of plows

I laughed and I was allowed is it here post i

I lined

 I white Pine Apple.


I warshes sara,

I loan my mind a gassicer feeling.

Work is work, that's what it is.

I DON'T WANT TO BE READY TO WRITE!

wasted baba

what the fuck does that mean?

I go you.

And?

Fuck moose.

Woka ba.

What's a book.

In serious lack of a roman drunk, give me a break!

A flawed machine:

Go to flask caught in dunciad of Pope.  Quince here pay-la A-O ocean.

TRANSCRIPTION

The flock machine: go to last card him don't see of Pope. Quince here pay law hey Jo.


GO AROUND IT

Home Paris Sylvia peace artistic paying or also a lot of beings are TV Ville Volvo Bonnie and David me weirdo works hair Lala Lala mom mom mama weirdo works here Harriet return return


Person that plays her friends chaos chaos weirdo weirdo I'm believing your friends Castle castle I love you Terry very weary Sammy Sammy the flower of my body is of lower my head call where you want to kill the family a family shit on this chess chance chance chance clamor life me okay I'm dog line Line


Baby you're the shark at all this is the law of pace this is the world I love I love you make me happy Icon person sorry it's bodily where are weirdo shawl shawl my Shit my shit my shit I shit clam clam where dog man gone directly along..

That return oh sorry you're the Pajama Will be there casserole fucking trauma wow what's stereo no one Harriet lower climbs into lenses Area no one Klein call mom sorry Will you please Think of me where I am tilting land sorry you are mine I love you it is that which holds clouds I love you teach me Business kisses are God sorry. Call weirdo call weirdo here tree

Inaccurate dictation record.

Central Planning

last
hole

work

below

I have a hos/ice

Lance a don

Whence

Lowell was fussy
Cunt trussed

William tried his mind;
He pulled :  I lied.

Whole poems a last
We(r)d poem

As my rowell pope claim
Oho.

As my rain tope cole
EO.

Sammon

Oil A whole
Blow oak.

I have what's pop

This pain cold me; this pain dries; this pain weres oak.

I 'ost patch; Ee ok.

The answer went -- Deal poem poem I hastily peace world
Oh a hole poem drama:  Kinship I weight here with ponds.

Oh bump were poem I leave.  Oh were lone trouble.

Soil around my witch:  cold and listening, working, pushed me here; here , here it is.

No wenc clay

I raise whores pinching me lying, working softly and a bot worm london is a nolo.

********************************************************************

ask

tonce

ah, my mind alive here , trying

Ah,:whole

Whole

Coil yes

Ask

Where

I home pay 'ost.

************************************************************************

I wear my whole ee love gay mom ee were here:  poem of allah/tu western entrance
Under my mother;
Or arish pain called me negro :  cole:  where is dr/ab where is oh, when is when?

Loyalty I have western train I love I love clay poem pussy work tossed in tom :  western
 -Yids- scale

-Whork-  Loyalty pan:ding oh where is a long word ne:er  poem toss me a warek .

Up in here dies orc love  :  Whales toss my hanging cole:  where is this binge here Awful
Toney Costs affirmation I know her.  Indeed, he is a lonely train sorry he loves dommynation.

Scoiled in Wenc I need a:lone flower ashes work(?)

Oil -- questioned(s)  loyalty ,,,

Too much family; too much hit ashes; too words; too words; toss me I donce cunt
Wills sanity london drama witches here ate a word in trouble safely pain whole.

No hope I love peace tying change here is a knight where I am faced (candles here)
Queer or not.  Stable alive.

***************************************************************************

EZ ah.

liberation nace quinces eat home I like a fair brenda hope.  He is here.  Drama werech.

**************************************************************************

Clam men

Wilt thou God is it?

Wilt thy cole eat -- where is it?

Dunfeddie Dunlaw ago work.

Shonnie nana a whoop he hope

Andrea teased ingrid with pain or popularity.

Quench the queer magnetic omen.

**************************************************************************

Dusty

Soak a hair where mo(o)ch gaffs here no where where it is.

And

Cope here a(m) wales ton't clake western

Ello trouble he I O.

Golden Eesher pales of orter were here.

*************************************************************************

Oh.

lat

lat

o well

low

low

Roman ingrid dwells in train a weirdo closed troubles as she and I called her (possibility?)

laugh at my mind negro spending Ingrid tree is Inchon dwarf poem.


***************************************************************************

The law

Shub

I laied here daean or poem?  He needs honda pa-le quenching e-la e-zo

Tanzania I'nt quart wenc a act of answers.  Wis is this?

Law Hi life he-lo combing cope here is you a father trasvestie cause a

fudge.

****************************************************************************

I like this.

Bisexual Liberation Army

Oils

Fo
ster

P
h
in

Clap

Coexistence

The Raiders

Was that my body i Knew stringing gold in my weight blond thought?

Why squirrel lonely?

I was butch docile as a rose flowering if I did, didn't it belong where I am?

Was Oregan flying in the dream sun turn welsh play :  (I need a narta dirty loan)

Was this bomb a lay?

Clap

Was I -rone- bald sorry it bit me, kiss me where I need it, please??

When no one offered it here, I climbed toward the teacher I drink her brain into the troubles of bodily clinching my rogue clone bothers me if I love you you are you; If I sylvia coldly troubled my mind causing me binch flames taste me.

To write without a will seems less than strong.

Oils rosy play me be good today.