Friday, April 02, 2010

4.2 just call me angel

and I'll sock you. Or carve
you against my

incarnation with wings that etch
the sky like boughs. I am

terrible. The rest of my host
function as a mafia. Lately

discussing the arsenal. This
millennium smaller might

be the thing: biologicals
have the appeal of seeming in-

effability. Can you comprehend
how I would favor video

games packed with old
fashioned carnage? Well

done. This world sadly, palely
imprints eternity. Biblical

proportion--to approach celestial
displeasure by measurable

experiential means--
it's just a beginning.

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