kusturica was taken

August is almost over. Work is stressful. I am not in jerk school. I hope we get the loan. I want to own the bar.

poetry in motion

I packed on a few and lit into the mother like a mother.
Listing in the waters, I knew it would be over soon.
A new type of aircraft hovered over my head, blowing my hair into every which way.
I wished I'd bought a crate of something nourishing to get me through these trying times.
A chorus of laughter reached me through the wilderness.
I'll model my next ray of sunshine after a picture show.
Civilizations will stand still.
This system is for the fish.
That pile of discs is getting dusty.
The deeper end of things is not showing it's measure.
This will last for a while.