Operating Ephemeral Machinery

Out of the corner of my ear the moans on low. 
The individual elements are not merged into a totality as in a mosaic, but assert their irreducibility. 
One in every 27 people or so sharing the same birthday. 
Social prey.

The sum of tongue-in-cheek orgiastic types who read code for the liberation. 
Glory globes and heaving heaven between. 
Ein Jahr ist eine lange Zeit. 
Pinch me, I'm wasted. 

The only thing that saves the bid from the lowballing is a sense of emptiness surrounding. 
Contrast feeling freshly filled. 
Blame the beauty of the accident. 
The red-headed step-child of analytical philosophy.

The revolution will not be torrented. 
Consider the issues at 17:24 for a moment. 
If it looks 'too perfect' it probably is. 
Honestly, he said, I just found it that way and glued it into place.

No pain no pop. 
Like a fat kid loves cake. 
I go smoke. 
Flick, fick. 
White blood cell phone. 
Windshield washer does not squirt fluid. 
Legality does not equate with social respectability, but I remain a poet in any case.

Cropping honey from the picture: synopsis or trickle lost to arcades? 
Es tut weh. 
It is not enough, but it is all that there is.

We dispute the 'psychotic' diagnosis in that instance. 
Tragic & spigot. 
If it has a sharp dry edge, is painful to lift, but can be grasped between incisors, pull it up away and peel back into the otherwise uninjured area.

What clown has no edge? 
Wir sind immer allein. 
To see that picture led to a certain regress and a week of bad dreams. 
I am dead and the whiter heart somehow drawn on.

Is there a relationship between analytical cubism and the punchline? 
"False friends" not just for languages sharing many roots. 
In time all such services will be automated not to save anyone the odious labor but to save the übers cost. 
Life is goo.

To interface or not to interface, that is the dialog box. 
Fully automated and without reference to any future. 
The floor looks hard. 
I would, if only to accumulate more shame.

From the hip glosses an illusion-groaning unity. 
Does collage occur between two people (du fehlst mir) or only when one door is closed, the wall sealed off, the other as such flattened so that missing, longing und so weiter is like a century of peasant uprisings quashed time and again by superior force of arms and no compunction.

Treason looks like a job for metal britches. 
Flying V. 
Kiss my fist. 
Masked for that reason are our thoughts. 
Set B bores me to fucking tears. 
A hole in the cabin that lets in the leak. 
Searching for someone to destroy that which is taken to be me.

With one eye I watch bay ah bay ay, stim fail and loss.
Ich bin malware. 
A second-order anharmonic effect. 
Even putting it in capitalized lines would not staunch the bleeding. 
He then took off all his disguises and went to hand in his paperwork at the Bürgeramt.

Self standing to me and to make the stores of regret. 
Steady drizzle, gray seamless sky, there is only self-loathing to keep me warm. 
Jackknifing is similar to bootstrapping.

What’s so special that you’re talking about? 
Sharing immortalizes within microcosms. 
A box of materials which seemed, unaccountably, lively when amassed there. 
Staring does not mean caring.

There is next to no overlap between set A and set B and yet seemlessly they and the ignored, irrelevant, set C populate the field. 
Some asymptotic properties of collage include...

Rhapsody; the sense of a shrill predilection for these equations. 
My kid could've made that traffic and left any malware that you accidentally invited on board perfectly free to squirt outbound data to its black little heart's content. 

Back when I would have cared without wondering if I really cared or was I just acting like I knew was expected? 
Guess who's a screamer? 
On the line where it says Unterschrift.

Telepathic mute button, the sinister bald tire memory of childhood. 
Whenever one of these soul suckers wandered into my office in search of some social prey to subject to its inane ramblings to establish inconsistency by replacing one of its axioms, the notorious Basic Law V with Hume's Principle, I plug in my iPod and zone out.

This *is* how I wake each day as in a blue flower, wake up for fin. 
Go back to the beginning, maybe, from here. 
Entrances are small, fast, and maneuverable, a term of art to be given of them.  
A wasp is sleeping.

There are three entrance points. 
I have three favorites. 
The only thing that saves potty humor from the lowbrow is a sense of pandering. 
After rechecking it I found that the war plug-in didn't include the war.

Are you planning to teach collage-making for people in pain?  
It only takes a few minutes to fuck something up permanently. 
Self-healing plastic sand from the beach and a mosaic of gratifying shits. 
Sex is about suffering until you get it right. 
Crust for tame animals.

A window reflecting windows, does and does not.  
A dagger and also dice. 
I go burn. 
Comments on eat me. 
The tensile properties of skin are explored and some tentative remarks on the Humpty Dumpty cell are leaked.

Is there a relationship between the use of words like "downturn" and the punchline? 
No that is my SIM card. 
Biological angel transparency. 
Bolt me to the lower stratum layers. 
Bolt me harder.

Expressing myself gets me down. 
Is there a relationship between an authentic sense of subjective coherence and the punchline? 
Why share, talking to myself, stanza bogart. 
Set A exemplar avoids my eyes.  

Time should have walked there already as it is devoid of technique. 
Ex, ex, ex. 
Tick, tick, tick. 
Blame the beauty of the accident where accident is read in the sense Aristotle had in mind. 
Frank Lee Tasteless.

The ache is in the eye but the shape there is a lamp to request likeness is perhaps too much subtotaling. 
Anytime they set their sights up a gun must be fired. 
I rated everything beige and was kicked out of logic class and subsequently from the he-man woman haters club as well.

Newsprint, fabric and oil on flesh. 
Illusion-groaning unities and used tissue wads. 
Mostly sweat break & sore mold. 
I go smoke, nicht war? 
I'm coming. 
Once submarine shipments disturbed the meat of the high seas.

Collage upon being tardy. 
Sex in the abstract drives the accumulation. 
Topiary ballast carved ocean roots for vast transient animal planets. 
I never ask that question any more if I can help it. 
Yes, it all goes together.

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