by Brian McCloskey
It was like being raised among swans. Everything just gets bigger and bigger and bigger and he gets buried in the music. We will need to create a transparency map for the tights. Silvering process and pressure resistance in the eel. Undressed to the waist, the woman will sit before her mirror and caress her breasts. There is, in fact, nothing very natural about the banana. Your new feminine body is free of any of the defects your old male one had. They glow like some holy breasts. I have translated the total absence of sound in every resilience of the page. I will lift your skirts over your face. Imagine a puddle waking up one morning. Several slender twigs were sticking up out of her red stocking. The flat is evil and full of cavalry. And we daren't put the pineapple on the table. I drag my sled in an old airport. Encircling the school of tuna is now complete. They were the greatest feeling things (stockings). A thousand violins fit in the palm of the hand. Mine heart within me is broken because of the librarians. I am a stranger, and I have come to these parts to sell green paint. How far can you push a dog? Death pops up rampantly in mind especially when I'm on the bike. Behind knowingly but gratifying for gratifying chess. What images of light, feathery touching can you find in the poem? These people were under the gun to find a house today and we didn't just find a house. But she's got a new hat. I will die while making love. For so many years even my ankles were a secret. You may feel reassured about coconuts. The skirt and colourful blouse are now replaced with brassieres and tights. Everyone sat in a roomy double bed.