by Barbara Armstrong

Created on: January 30, 2008

CO2. Carbon Dioxide, the real solution?

No. Energy, expended. Stealing.ideas.research. Free energy to claim words of others. As her own.

This is her.her pattern. Win the race of herself, by copy toil. Hard work. Of other people. The beauty!

O the search the sky! Love, in theft. The catburglar in black shoes. Sneak in, turn prose. Not hers. Into

unintelligible
prose

"poems"

Stealing. Thief. Burglar of words. Empty brain.has no thoughts of its own. Must seek. Must suck. Suck work of others, take it into herself.

Change work of others. Enough, yes. Enough to pretend it's not theft, robbed, stolen.

Audacious.

Stupid.

Chutzpah. Hebrew, oh, you cover everything. The gall, the balls. To do such a thing.

To fly. On wings of physics. Golden wings.natural ingredients.

Slip in links. Source of spyware.blurry photos, the glory of squinting!

Wood from gorgeous Germany. The engines pump.whir.spin. The engines use wood. Make glorious energy for to make glory of people.

Nature. water, surfing, float upon golden carbon dioxide wings. The carbon dioxide increases, increases. Lifting up the people to the sky. Stars. Glittering on black velvet canvas. Dogs.playing poker. Yes, the tactile orgasm! They play with Elvis!

Slide on the slippery snow. If only she could feel the freezing. The beautiful coal sky mirrors the emptiness of her brain.

Oh.to have.a full.Brain. A thought of her own. Such a surprise!pleasant, welcome.shock.

Pollution. She pollutes. Thinking at free energy, free words, free ideas. Creates equilibrium, one creates, the other steals. It is a balance. Ideas and the complete lack of ideas.

Natural ingredients pour from the mountain of my brain! Only to be scooped up by her.changed.tainted. Gnarled into broken English in some semblance of.I am deep.

Time. Work. Obtain energy and come to fruition. Inside, she sings, and catalogs her dirty collection of stolen property. Greasy fingerprints stain pure words, turn them into mutant form nature rising.

up.one.

Move a degree and soar on black velvet Elvis painting, patented.

Someday.someday. Maybe she retire her catburglar word-shoes.
Someday.someday. Maybe she come up with her own idea.
Someday.someday. Maybe she...

Ahh...who am I kidding?

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