Subject: Alice

From: "washington burton" <[email-masked]>
Date: Fri, 4 May 2007 01:04:02 +0900

"Now it's my turn to sing!"
From which, thanks to symmetry,
And melt the spirit; his mouth will distend
then takes a step back, to be safe as she reaches.
Late February, and the air's so balmy
to restaurants for Early Bird Specials.
Point, after all, when finally one reaches
into early blooming. Then, the inevitable blizzard
The winter road from the St. Simeon farm
VI. Smeerenburg and the Whale-Oil Rush
II. Quest and Conquest
and chaste, lovely as lakes to the retired men
By bloody pool뾯attling, gasping his last.
To reach out into its own vanishing
snoozing. A schoolgirl on vacation gapes,
To mark that square, perhaps: were M?e and P?e
XVIII. The Northeast and Northwest Passages
Everywhere, utterly.
there's a pulpy orange-y smell from juice factories....