Saturday, March 25

Bob BrueckL on Wryting 20/03/2006 6:32

In the sphere of irrelevance, yr speech is a permuted locution.


My utterances are not utterly algorithmically irrelevant.
[window-sill]
The squeaking ambiguities are not irrelevant to the permuted acts of utterance.
[come anew]
The endless ambiguities in your voice are being interpolated.
[nasturtium]
The algorithmic extraction is being gored in the embedded waves of darkness.
[pansy]
The extracted inversion is superficially disoriented.
[pale eaten glance]
The parasitic paradox is inaccessible to my inner rectum.
[nestled fur lining]
One parasite is humping another outside of my imagination.
[air blossom]
The superimposed delimits are endless interpolations of disorientations.
[sliced stains]
The gibberish is so obscure it subsumes the sublime.
[pomp pump]
May I interrupt the sphere of unshapely ambiguities.
[climax dot]
The unshapely paradigm is parasitic and inaccessible to interpolated analysis.
[lil' bean dew]
The hermetic sublime is shitty.
[dust core]
There are no subsumed delimits to its disorientation.
[lightly lipless]
The messy inscriptions are overflowing into poetic paradoxes.
[undoubtedly quiet]
Who subverted the spatially collapsing subtext.
[wad head]
Uttered numbers are woven into disoriented ambiguities.
[mother-of-pearl]
The syntax udders emulate slangy subtexts.
[nut wailing stars]
The structure collapses as the sublime is being inscribed.
[ice white-knuckling it]
The structure of disassembled abstractions is or is not true.
[long colored calamity]
The accuracy of what is being inscribed is slovenly lovely.
[itching bone]
There is a disoriented parasite in my hermetic imagination.
[chin shine]
The uttered paradox is being superimposed upon permuted gibberish.
[smoke-stacks]
The unuttered paradox is spatially blatant.
[dreaded bouncer muscle]
What is blatantly gibberish contradicts the hermetic paradigm.
[wade in it]
The paradigm of gibberish is being interpreted.
[ham coop]
The unblatant subtext is or is not true.
[skin of night]
The disassembled truth is false, endless waves of dark root canals.
[neck hole]
The ultimate poetic truth is percolating inaccurately.
[glass pail]
The syntax-slang is woven into messy ambiguities.
[I forsook the dross]
What appears is inaccessible, but the context is disassembled.
[O withering shrub of death]
An abstract voice is squeaky and true and false.
[wetness lettuce]
The poetic is extracted while the interpolated is being embedded.
[coal necklaces]



--Bob BrueckL

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