From: Kenneth Johnson <beeso@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
Date: Fri, 26 Dec 2003 20:01:08 -0800
it's only a glancing thought so could be wrong, but still a good
glance it was, a sharply flashed sighting of the shapefull one, a one
that keeps itself wary all the while and all the meanwhile 'neath a
anyway, seems maybe it may-be, that all the nobler nobeler's could be
classed. there are those less noble who receive it's cash for the
depth that remains over from a rare overflow of a warrior's in-sight,
i.e. those inward sightings made under some rare depth of
perspectives not allowed to the ev'ry body', but then the everybody
is not very interesting to the no body plus one anyway, to that
singular exception to the molecular oneness that occassionally dreams
of justice yes but dreams more of love and of its fruition from a
well derived, well perceived, welling up of innocence. this is the
kind of love that produces "heirs to"
and then there are, and, so far, always 'will' be, those "other"
kinds, the lecher kinds
which, of course, the noblesse leaking cri'fn lemmings would k(no)w nutting o'
nor nuttin o' the story of 'o' neither - for their lechery is aimed
downward, to kill the bowels of the shitting rocks and diahreal sands
and other smiling things grunted outfrom their own stone strewn
mother, the stony earth.
straint, or the word, for to do the day with, is
lasso the appasionatonal drunk realists
n brand m w/an X
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