whilst waiting i) up the stairs red scarves and tight skirts loose slacks and grey shirts my how the landscape has changed I can’t say that I love to be dipped into this pot of pretty where the lipstick liner queens supreme and the coffee is brewed to mitigate the colostomy wretch so I try a yellowed paper backed beat but it held nothing to the shoebox diorama of national care where the alphabetised gates of ingress more or less double as departure lounge fro the broken and spent where their god might sit them on fashionably backed chairs for the percentile of misplace repairs or is it me that smells of warm piss? ii) down the travelator a troll lives under the MRI, moved on from the bridge by the gruffest of beards, now working externally of the fable beneath the table of the magnetic eye
Posted on: Tue, 25 Mar 2014 13:34:21 +0000
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