They oiled their lakes, which they believe are sacred.

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They oiled their lakes, which they believe are sacred.
The Artic is warming faster than the rest of the planet.
Pull up a Screen of French homosexuals.
I've got to get the beach ready.
Every degree change in temperature is not modest.
It was involuntary to fall. 

To the earth past the stars
The shape of your taste
Pushing pulsating thrusting
White wax almond glue
On our lips
Inhaler
Upon her
Upon him 

My sketchbook is speaking mortal poppies.
He said he would hold my fetish in the forest.
With his rabbit eyes I feel like swimming.
It is a very delicate ecosystem.
I have a machine on my radiator.
I have used it for many different reasons.
Now I use it for you. 

He walked into my echoing.
Fiction of Jesus
and his right hand.
He asked the crowd.
Checked with the poll
and they said kill him.
White papers about the devil
and Jesus
and the Supreme Court.
Fish reads the headlines.
His trademark symbols go through me,
like a natural habitat.

Men with guns
Wild virgin forest
Christ's first blowjob
All the major species are here now
A dome of systems
Breathe on me
The government endorsing a certain kind of religion

He was soft and completely harmless.
A lop is my last banquet.
I have seen society, mankind.
There is so much more to me than dada.

She plays a flute
While the bunny dances
I like the way our voices brew
And our song soaks the collapsing
hypocrisy on the left
Marry the mother of Jesus covered with dung 

Oh, this surge.
Don't let me push us away.
Revolutionary drudgery.
The arctic is under copious complexity.
For centuries, the arctic ice has prevented ships from using this shortcut.
Much remains the same for a culture built on coping with this extreme climate.
And even though more modern methods are available, the Inuit continue to hunt.
Dangerous developments threaten wildlife and an ancient culture.

Navigation:
Hasta la tierra pasado las estrellas. 

The early iceman and his copper blade.
Beneath their feet, something is changing.
How did I know I would meet you here?
Other stories become so miserably transformed by time,
A star unrecognizable.
New researchers replaced old examiners.
Scientists say the middle of the day should be clothed in coherence.
I painted a mural on my mother's belly.
The ice is drinking.

< Jesus Christ is in the execution room screaming out > 

And the gun in his pocket wasn't even the murder weapon.


::: posted by Lepidoptera Demagogue at 12/8/2001 10:36:05 PM