I came just for the cookies. Now count the sands to bees. Byting elders collect turkeys. Their butchers sleep best - gone forever those silent views. Some soft peaches freshen the room. Of picked apples, the same with cheese-kissed moons. I wait: silence unleash me! The grass of heaven is so lovely. Today's mountains demand sharper news. Hail cables in search of victories. Reveal nothing. The nuts lost their squirrels, it's true: linebackers are so scary. Cold waves touch every perfected shore. Prepare? At least there's no boredom in store. Anyways, this realm of sprinkles delights me. Why this is my dinner, silly ass. End scene. Drama.

To fold away. To be seen as a child. To drift apart. To save dove or eagle. To flip coins. To be one with zeroes. To this way. To that day stopped tomorrow.

Mock a weed's sex, bury the slow doors? And give up? Poor Sunday, avoid trimming picked flowers. Decaying teeth snore, chew through that line. Worshipped botched doctors, licked up shiny floors. Seedless gods fish, strike the moon's chord. Favor, favor - tis nothing, abusive chores. Refreshed with spilt water. Clipped winged-fruit, preserved war-walls. Cold winter chants, remember to forget - or, eat with a wordless rebel - cough, silence calls - the last shore! Why chased, how to think - sea be for.

To trade life for tea. To bulge green. To stay among the free. To one vote. To beached whales. To cheer snapshot Caesars. To glorified sneezers. To the untapped door. To the brain. To hurried audience roars. To still painted wars. To unshelled turtles. To blind snails. To mistake new shores. To the mercy. To unfinish revealing. To see while dreaming.

Lying created my way. More than a some. Cheating saved my day. Cut from the vine. Thieving paved my stay. Live as they come. Heroing blew me away. Leave sweeter wine.

This fine red trail. In the soft, fresh snow. Revealed my ducks. Were not in a row. Be the bigger man. Another did so. Blow-by-blow. Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk. With ever more fish biting. Walk. Bananas, everywhere, fighting. Walk. The king went on sighing. How am I ever going to get home. With these ducks - ducks who once loved to roam.