𝗧𝘄𝗼 𝗣𝗼𝗲𝗺𝘀 𝗯𝘆 𝗛𝗲𝗶𝗸𝗸𝗶 𝗛𝘂𝗼𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶
The first to gird the loins is the last to be slain. They do not move because they choose to. Is this not the body you expected? Now your military service is no good here, now your vertigo. To burn the sinners, saints are working overtime. As it was no mistake so now it's gospel, now it's gospel to expose one's testicles to red light or to tell testosterone goodbye. The glass harmonica emerges from embroidery and contemplation then beset by pleasantries the presidents are restless. Subject to belief's specific gravity, Diogenes The Dog is conscious or Diogenes The Dog is chasing cars again. When Waldo watches Waldo's language, equilibrium (the pleasure of it) is all mine. Associated with an antipode and what the antipode opposes is a plane the intersection of which with the sphere is a great circle. There were certain words. How could you, word, have been a curse?
The Receiver's Tedium
I assess my readiness with stress tests, hear all pins drop, read by moonlight. Drowning governments in bathtubs, I do not negotiate with pacifists. What I think the aurora borealis is is not germane. Dark matter is nothing to laugh at. I will be your server for eternity. Collisions narrowly avoided, if you have no nuance put it on the table now. Here's looking through you, ok boomer. Knowing what will happen next, in every half-full glass there's a bent pencil. Don't think of a number between one and ten then. Is your symmetry by accident or by design? The whirling dervish says that it's a non-event or it's a happy landing. Is there no banana in your pocket or have you no need to see me? Yes, if litigation makes the heart grow fonder, litigation makes the man. The bearer of the blame's a function of the natural numbers, e.g., fool me three times, shame on God.