New English Army

Presently I defense here. After 2003 I get purrs a journey land pub. Before landing “Inside the Pentagon” in September 2005 I diary rights a Penguin (what a subrights does will!) and a news a news. Over half, over ion city sue. I find and develop. By talking to mitts the industry. I work the chief ideas three to five. I enjoy being there are ways and topics disc. One day I could find the need to save live whale soldiers in. Iraq the day how Afghans are Combs with rug mugs. Often poses issue I’ve never a face. At day, I most enjoy being in a job that allows my brain to chase new ideas.

Being an English major as my life reports. Owning language to clear my point were two skills. I icked up. More have strong art back help me eve anal situations and pick up trends. May the lives of readers. Somehow, being able to read has helped me!

Depart thus, fullness, quirks above the knowledge. Byron’s view on love with being! Continent amazed by Prof. Ganz!

Someone else's headstroke (now with 40% more strokes!)

Laura's armor
falls
broils and cuts

Claire's ear
sells donuts in
special
crab oils

Nell's pets'
beaks
deal baubles that
wrench:

Ten beeps then mute.

Kafka's house
is on loose

My spell is
mystic juice.




(more to come...)

Poems by Rebecca Alford, re-cut & trashed by me; a.k.a. "I STOLE YER DAMN POEMS!"

"Tennessee"

As you machine
hug an urn
with gears in your
twitch arms and legs.

I pin
cheek.
Sweat your body
you your eyes.

You row me
sit up straight and
the days are numbered
ever so.

I pull you
say your nose America.



"Urges in"

my big grey box,
tiny skin.
spine aligned with ten.
The speed wakes,
peakers a well-worn.
old wind rolled
my cheek.
The vibrations un-Velcro Sunday School lessons.
a little to, or to,
into or
into your house,
the green peas halfway.
It's nothing,
It's just sound.



"Vest me, Baby"

found snow, still plastic blue.
down, bed,
and squeezed. until my skull
shed straw spilled white
kick my four times until my heart.
pink in static straight,
my hand found veins galloping.
You inter flannel,
carried to
made geometry
between the pins.
I wound your,
she's in my hair.



"Mouse, Mouse"

The city bind the stars,
but if we were the country.
sure would.
So well we
in the under
flourescent shiver thumbs.

If we had field
how far would we
find its arm.
So well you
its cold suede
shaking feet.

Under and wires
is the only I could.
one cold made.