Wednesday, December 14, 2016

The Devil's Ripe Piano -- jim leftwich

The Devil's Ripe Piano

Everyone in a chunk of pensive deep sand. Expect to expire like staccato cats. Divide the squash and edit the soils. Normal combs are adhesive like toes. Memories of stop signs table-fishing citations. Compressed understanding. Scarab tomato. Relive forth your trained umbrella. Brandish magical pigeons. Sleeve raccoon leering pearls. Fit sifting proprietary moments. Be here noun. Bee hear now. Facial commence, flux and due.

jim leftwich