postsong with medium blue

that’s why history isn’t written

the hobbit slinks in mass to a shrinkage, at elephant isle

that’s everyday, it’s endlessly bagging at the sub or periscopic mercado

slumming  vacational  grins into mutant registration form, or

there appears at the bottom:  all current nanodata, labeling
just with   labeling who    maybe a fund-coded street-cry—

thickness of the bottle glass breaking    last Saturday nite flivver

(OK  so send everyone on the roster the exchange tables)    

or selections of what appears at the bottom of teasing

pause the day to sweep in force of speech

it’s almost like  sprightly dance moves thru standard purposeless puppets

exceptions to the the crazed payment rule form corporate strata   [at base 12]

losing sleep over a tally sheet magnifies colder edges at his rock shoreline?

is that a way for the link to slope brittle ??

a unicorn’s gonna manage slamming doors across bombing civilians

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