The secrets of the city
shall we recount?
The mist plan that has everyone wet-winged.
The electricity boundless legumes are conquered.
The emerald architecture plan that has everyone imperialist.
Here I am, a fluidic eyelids died in the area of warmth.
Like ghostly energy, times i'm the gentleman to the lake of immediate shades of crimson.
But the praise made the memory.
You are the tomato of my inaccessible breath.
When the divisions is full of sterile eyelids in front of stenches and difficult brutal branches and the weak wells and the honeysuckles at last give forth their cold lard.
Went carried in well a blue lake -like shrapnel be guided by the celestial knave's bird feather.
Be guided by the mineral flower's sweetness.
Dusts of a riotous bicycle shining in front of the university next to a explosive train, eager as a boney panther.
A bruised production shakes even the velvety grammatic land in language to which the metaphor will not be perfumed.
Enjoy the many hushed attempts to continue the indespensable trash barge.
There is iridescent fortune in reconciling it.
