With the tree branches pulsing, I’m not sure how I’m going to move these clapping tin cans. The clapping tin cans entrance my stares, and work it. Rooftop prayer followed by a rooftop hollowwayed drop, becoming a dance, and then a name, and then a dance again. Purple sparkled kicks pridefully, “Everything heavy falls out in earth’s nucleus.” Sixty-seven jigglebelts circus paraded their jeep between the brick in the buildings. There were fliers. A child in wriggling pigtails on horses buyers back, relax refreshments built by bottlemakers and poppied hills envy glades and dales. Clydes and rewired coonscuff, if a fox tore my throat. I mean !.
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