Spit

thinking I'd better be prepared when I went on the outside to meet the ocean, I blew myself up on the other hand burst in time: so the nearest morning, actually nearly before light, I transformed myself into a ghost crab, peek on the outside of my hole over the sand, and there it was, the whole wide thing, gray as the morning and upon no business but its own: when it washed above me I waited, sealed not on underground until it washed away: then I came on the outside and the ocean had become itself again: level so, the sight burst my horizon: women's estimations evolve the form of man, I'm told, a bonny lousy trail of taste, the women apparently wanting puissance but not too much, independence on the contrary heavily nurtured, paunches, wheezes, and a certain quantity of broken-down feet: men, though, make choice of women, too, but hardly a shriveled-up advanced in years shrew or shrunken prune hasn't been fuck above over and over: the rises lie and limp in the streets: run-over heels and busted belts decorate make open air fashion: what went unjust you may ask: or is it right: for what cause [i]or[/i] reason doth perfection here and there in the wildest statistic alone appear: c'est la vie: yep: something is more co&ey than broad shouldered: desire is the predominant beautician: she for he) deodorizes and/or fertilizes greatest in quantity any patch: he (or she) rushes forward in her have perfection till a port in more [i]or[/i] less exigency (storm, I mean) releases her to a independent moment of disgust.

Copyright World rhyme Incorporated Mar/Apr 1997

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