I'll never forget old Ma Key. She was huge. Built like a tent.
Personal Blogs
Cartesian pigs,
Don't wear wigs,
But according to our figs,
We have free swill.
All the J's and L's were stolen. Luckily the police were on the K's.
The vivid brightness of other beings.
I cry at their beauty.
Moor-hen.
My Sleep Monitor says I've been
Asleep 95 hours.
Human failure.
I'm glad
Time has
Slowed me
Down
Now I can listen to it
better,
Disgusting: a scholar
Snoring like a pig.
So he can't hear the birdsIf I should vote, remember this of me
That according to The Representation of the People Act (1983)
My vote is cast, and cannot be revoked by any earthly sway.
(Unless the Royal Mail loses it on the way.)
More than the scent of wet flowers
This summer night.
One person picks themself up from the ground
And someone close by sees, and does the same.
Dusts themself down, and carries on.
A third picks up the same idea:
Defeat is not defeat; and copies yet again
The resolution they have seen before.
And so it carries on; one act of courage
Can be infectious in a chain, and at the end
We all may rise again with pride.
"I fancied you".
"I never knew!"
"I never said."
"And now I'm dead."
The spinach didn't just wilt.
It was kilt.
Here's another crazy idea. Some Swiss prof claims if you want to slim, then between dawn and dusk you should eat only cereals. Honestly. It's called "The day, the muesli diet".
Google Calendar sent an alert: "Clear tomorrow". Got up and it was still raining.
Another one. I asked some Greens a question. But there was no Brussels answerability.
My new hedge is privet. I was thinking outside the box.
Revenge is sweet so they say. Do they mean it's serial?
A cat decapitated me.
And so I went to a mouse, mouse, better place than I have every known.
Growing old
Does not disappoint.
A calm mind
Hears birdsong better.
A jogger in a red top
Overtook me quickly tonight.
I never even heard him behind me.
But further up the path I noticed he slowed.
I'd organize a Thrush competition, if they needed me.
If, the wind blows your hair about,
Be grateful.
One for the wind
Two that you live and breathe
MASOCHISTS FACE BACKLASH
I'd write about bondage. But I'd be bound to get it it wrong.
I only sobbed at fifteen watts
A low-energy blub.
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