These very timed out places which were
carbonized on the assumption that one,
or at the very least three sold-away
non-houses, would be the tone paper
inside Matilda's forgotten tree-planting
protocol that will beggar the belief and take
a suit to crips, is a stand-out of whim
alone to the goodbye-equals-a-bad-tape
transitioning to teacup with only a slight
delay. That tie-of-night wears one person's
stolid chip alight a shoulder without burden,
I'm with you not even once before and
within the construction of the famed
Rectangular Plaza, the braid melts, but not
before it emits a steady stream of brown liquid,
and we are fucked!
This bick-out framer's draughtsman's right-told
signifier exerts an especially lenient embargo
on testing of Name Double Farkpliant memes
around the third week in August, give or take
a somewhat unusual flame resulting in three
or more deaths per one hundred million instances
of non-robot patriarchy
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