Member since July 8, 2015 | 0 Readings |
Subscribed by Aud
Rice without the sticky, / magic beans with no fo fum, / the fortune cookie that reveals: “You like Chinese food.” / / Lying like a fish, / …
Seymour is still tuning in Tokyo. / / He turns the brassy locks / that stay his armored door, / each one easing out their last two cents: / …
He cometh beruffled ungliding / with swerve mathmythic eyes. / As oily as a hyphen / and soft-shod as a spy. / / But sudden with a powder…
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