Wrestle warmth in book bindings, withered by tortured time. Meaningful wading bucolic hunters weaving songs of super sonic silence. Trains leave the dock in search of ankle biters to pilot them. Zookeepers render pipes cackling in humorous helium hell raisers asunder. Quelled by negligent bananas, I rang.


Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger

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