“Phebe Wright, in Yellowness schnapper, and from adipex, stiddier than we have serpents to sponsor…”
I have been blanketed with a downy cover of spam comments that softens the blow of rainy days. The above poem is, I guess, a random generated computer event (one among way too many)… It’s part of a computer strategy to sound like something other than a Phentamine add (What the hell is phentamine anyway?) Howwever, if read as Dylan Thomas, it sort of works. This could have something to do with my mom finally reading Joyce… or it’s a beutiful accident… and what’s the difference?…. da da…..?
Meanwhile, the Japanese Pogoda trees are dropping these alien pods on the slick streets. Sometimes it feels like the fifties keep starting over… like reality wants to give the world a second chance… as if dropping the bomb saved that level in the game. Anyway, it’s pleasant (and terrifying) to think so.
