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It's not surprising to
yield, but angering the extra car takes guts and fight - nerves tangle as children embarrass parents with patience, staring at nothing but steel, plastic, rubber, it gives way to concrete? Now we part ways, but remember this day, this place, we tangled over a cloud, a blue - sky that says freedom - but chains never loosen from steering wheels gripped with fear. To know the way is easier than to give away. Please allow this door to open to another lane, she, he said as to the Samaritan, lying by the road, torn with anger. He and she know unbridled pain in the stare down over choosing a radio - station, speaker, Then I knew all about them, the car that did such and such before I trafficked in insanity. © 2013 Larry Ingram
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Clarifying your statement
to say that you traveled far and wide to apply - fertilizer - but to a select - not chosen or represented by ombudsmen of unwanted greens. They took, took the pleasure of your company, they multiplied and drank in soil, moisture, minerals you supplied, when daring them to die a death meant only. Now to arms you say - your hybrids send a receipt taken as slap, and saber drawn to remark of the tall, to the warring many, they relish in annoying natural folk. Flowering thus, they fertilize, but no eggs for fear of human catastrophe - who yearn for guiltless days, relaxing in soil, ready for scrapes with speed limits. In this they succeed in their travel, inches become miles, skyward, onward - encouraging entrepreneurial growth in scandalous flight of clapping gigantic blackbird. © 2013 Larry Ingram She wanted nothing of
gutter talk, it came late at night - relatively, it poured, down pipes helping no soul to bathe in sun, moon knows no one troubled with complaining. Yet, the company dwells in currents, downspouts dry with dysfunction - dissing men who claim otherwise. They know their hammers, nails - gunning for shingles. Those shots were not mean for you - but the air, heavy, thick with sweat - if only it came that way when, with Noah booied about by animal instincts that care nothing for comportment - Robert ruling. © 2013 Larry Ingram He broke his nuts,
lying there, stunned, not reveling in emotion - for employees taking profits, or just took him for what he was worth, the brand that makes it hell for a while, but that's not how it went down today. Anticipating an herb or two - the jalapeno plant for raking it in by the hundreds, a new idea for growing and sunning this sage of wise advice - mentoring the moment of invention - for clever talks, knowing an experience could make or break. It's likely we'll see another cultivating soul - thyme for herbs to travel to pay homage to Superman, overnight success, or a stay in Metropolis, growing the super brand - if you had known this salary, this success, I would have loaned you shelf space. © 2013 Larry Ingram They really like dirt,
but not so much conversation with others - plants, insects, except during the day - minerals have a nice presence when we all get along, with earth worms, moving, turning dirt at will. Get a backhoe for the next project, to grade roots, see better color, petals - variety that makes a splash unknown to sales, hoards of people who can't spell dianthus, while the latin is effective. Bend for water, a natural supplement for what for allowances that look like seeds growing into pots - plastic but certainly not the real petunia that makes a profit for its owner - a hybrid of what we title red and white, with plenty of veins for next year. © 2013 Larry Ingram All-time favorites that
will be embellished, if not promoted by marketing, by stalls of sales forces me to purchase, the smell really intoxicates for watches, Swiss made. You'll want to make them forever, or longer if the test kitchen is true, if cursing holds promise of shameless behavior - again, knowing your kitchen. But females, scarring souls are polished by lenses, desktop marvels who caress bodies are see racks and racks of coveted contracts for attorneys, or just the picture. They stand there - surely printing altogether - choosing a fragrance like schemes, heroin for heroines last to stand by and make peace with the paper. © 2013 Larry Ingram It costs not too much -
or it has no activity but the lame excuse for shame - traveling in a wake telephoned for support, while eating, eating. It's nice to enjoy - or by declaration - enjoy sir, madam - please, if you can or are able - to deny any reasonable doubt at the price of a piece. It's really peace we are after, but speak for the majority of sane, gratuitously sauteed, butter, but successful at a leg of lamb. This peace flies while waiting to be seated - on a scale you weigh the importance of lacking gravitas, measuring success by which table it ready. © 2013 Larry Ingram You can see it,
but the capucinno spilled, tumbling in my direction, as a lost lamb, splintering wood, we all can see - but not he. Glancing, a spy novel bleats blood, as we all know that summer blends blanks, for guns not aimed, nor taken in stead. Those magazines are not really mine, they just sprang into action, my hand, yours eyes peeled for flesh that stares. Nonchalance travels so fast it dovetails, loitering in feathers, still the way that they keep fresh, toward that man acting. The pair, mother, daughter - embarassed but acknowledging gravity, the situation calls for style, governance, correction - freedom to become lax. Now it isn't really looking at me. But my mind bends in that gravel pit, furrows of dirt upturned, for manure that clarifies my brain on trash. © 2013 Larry Ingram As if to make it harder to
accomplish the dot, the sphere, it makes it sharp, nearly indecipherable in it's glowing praise of balance, rythym ads a t or y or i when I talk on the phone - quickly she blurts. But red lines mean nothing added but dots, artistic skirmishes in the mind - remedies for orange cones we avoided, when we stayed within boundaries that allow new construction. And it is, positively a dot - to make it hear by this time - never in a hurry of course, though I tracked your sense of history - where you were when you were most productive - buddy. Now it's clear that art wins. Dark as night it comes onto my page, seeing white, seeing nearly a frame, diagnosing an altered state where it's faster, nicer, tacky, bright. Now, then, nearer, far - then we'll take, another gross, outlet, for making tea, bags that are about done, stores for fragrance, making it seem a sense of light. © 2013 Larry Ingram I wait in anticipation
for the door, the people to open. White sterilizations in clear sinks, white with despair, or hope - no. But a blur appears, nearer to slurs upon time, patiently sliding in and out of transcendence, he plies his history, deafening from hearing nothing, or enough to staccato a voice. White counts are low, but hearing? Or is it to listen, one ear or both? Hearing loss is bad or positive - but for me, not you who have recovered your sense of Hyppocractic - cursing my health. Recovering are you? Remitting remission? I'm dying you know - for the few minutes I had your attention. As to your recovery: I know you hope I do, and then some. On he goes - bouncing off ears - a flight to Berlin, where they don't speak German and neither do you, so you say learning French is not easy. But where were we, you the last split second while I guessed at you - sent a missile flying, it hit with percussion, while fellow medical watches, learns bad society - skills unbecoming the ear. It's already too late for remedies, though the drugs took hold; I drugged you - or so it seems your health - mentally is failing to grasp - patients or patience, whichever flowers, buds in one lone hermetically sealed Lebanese room - clean, urbane, eating richly a doctor's fat, where clearly you have not traveled. Lost are you? In sitting with a brilliant social idiot. Yes, it comes to me - you are right. Sometimes it takes chocolate, eclairs to regain senses, bearings of flights to Jakarta, for lost iphones, barely missing the gate, the agent, the sanity of travel where few gain remedies, chemo for thin air, for travel weary, the Word Cup of angst, a son's wedding, nearly missed for an IV embedded in orderlies, soul's unmatched by protocol, methotrexate is really at fault hear - lacking constant clarity of blood pressure bearings - north by longitude, latitude that clears a vein. It's safer for pumping more chemo - who knew such a nice word could clarify the destiny of cancer, microbes or smaller blowing up with steriods while on a sleepless trip, into the morning. I couldn't sleep - no really. I had none of it - but it's all good really. Your levels are lower. Do you feel better? Healthy? Clean? Vibrant? Your weight looks good, but you are walking backwards. Trying walking forwards for a mile or two and I'll see you in a month or two, or three or six. |
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