a poem for today, 17 March 2012
[a word-sorted sonnet of X sentences and its image]
Presumably, deviance sells.
The slide from epistemological sobriety into ontological incontinence.
More testosterone will be flowing through her body.
Likewise is a bad answer.
As others in the history of philosophy have observed, some problems are more effectively solved by being justly ignored, by not being dignified with any further engagement.
If you possess visible veins on the back of your hand, you will notice that one of the most obvious ones does line up roughly with the ring finger.
No ball games.
From a bad crow, a bad egg.
You will need to disentangle the nomenclature.
Throw chainsaws at them.
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