recycling

the circuitous lyrical literal thing, of a verse that's ingested before comin in, takin in surroundings, the windows the thing, to beautify ptilopsical wonderings. in through the eyes, a picture intake, a property's proper properties you rake if you want to make it, without first taking keep pushing that boulder, and running that ring, recycling is the first step in a strut, over boards the actors before you did well rut. a walk in the woods or your hood can capsize, unsinkable vessels, of blocks beyond size. a block at the party, a verse thats half cocked, then something your friend says in passing; socks knocked. creating alones the impossible thing, every sonnet thats soldered your cranium rings, its a tone it'll tune up the fan belt of art, it is you, and throughout all the world since the start. A Hassunan potter, she hears your song now. every fletcher, and catcher, and bender of bows. One did it before them, something of the sort. every bard worth his salt heard his uncles retorts. every baker worth flour, learns to torte when hes small. and each artist you love, they looked up to the tall.

El Viaje Misterioso de Nuestro Jomer (The Mysterious Voyage of Homer

Season 8 / Episode 9

Hahehehuahahaha that tickl– OH– OH GOD, IT BURNS, AAAAHHHH!!! I do a lot of these. So do other people. Keep up with my work on facebook and twitter.