Multilingual rubberman.
30 or 40 Parrots, wild from the jungle, swoop down upon shoulder,begin lessons with ears and mouth.
Learn how to learn.
Stop performing and perform.
At an appointment for an editorial review of black and white pencil marks!

One need not always be clever!

How strange to find myself alleviated from pressure. If I have taken a moment to describe that inside of my head beneath the skull there walks about a beetle. Forget about its color, the first and most important detail is the fact that a most impenetrable shell covers it. Furthermore I tell you it kicks up its legs in a constant wandering and circular motion, always busy, but not very giving, unless I ask in a clever way – “HOW MIGHT I BE BRIEFED CONCERNING THE MOST RECENT LEVEL OF USLESS AND DISTURBING LAUNCH OF FATUIGE THAT YOU CONTINUE TO COVET THE MOST UNASUMING AND WONDERFUL WAYS OF POSSIBLY BEING? SIR!” As you can see it is difficult to be polite when one is talking directly to oneself! Look I have a very good example, it all starts when two people take a walk together, the one is exited to be physical and needs to reach a certain point at which a mark is achieved, the point of the walk being fitness. The other is less concerned with this on regular basis, in point of fact, the walk revolves around the pleasure that can be derived from walking in the woods, the possibility of witnessing the very secret and wonderful day, its assorted green, and flowers, and trees et al. Of course the later wants very much to stop here and there (annoying to the former) encircling and caressing the wonder that is felt in hopes of celebration and discussion. Here we have a paradox. Do we take turns in our walks hoping that both individuals can be giving and unselfish about the tone at the time and not dictating one way or the other the overall out come of walk number one as opposed to walk number 12? I bid this to you, I desire a foreword to be written immediately concerning the depths that I have and will go to solve the everlasting problem that is myself. I am not a tireless individual with all of the childlike assets of my youth placed before me, triggers to squeeze summoning up whimsy and perfect innocence, but I do have a revulsion to constantly intimidating my potential till it is a flat bus tire lying on the side of a dirty highway after having just been hammered open and squeezed of its air by the very driver that was relying on it in the very first place! As a mathematical problem has those who can solve it through the proper explication, I will set about the same way my broken numbers.

The woodenhead rests on top
Of my Kitchen Refrigerator
It has eyes which are not moving
But I can tell there is something to being an inanimate object on top of a box of cold food which has its own place
In the IQ tests for children

I am over satisfied by nothing!

The Eye centered in a farm house!

I work for the Moving pin

Should you take me for a pointy-headed swelled-headed Rooster?
Up and rambling in the wrong time and place
An administrator-informant of ten things which cause you to bleed at the gums while in a dark room wearing a white hat valuably improvised by a cotton roustabout with tin needles
Dray-horse of the misadventure laid on the doorstep of thirsty mouths
I cut and clear the moment of which I am burned
Of which I have been suspended
The moment when I have accomplished the feat of pulling up my eyelids so that a beam can press against my daydream nightmare and flush out the broken bail of water.

white math is falling out the nose of the bird in the sky.

Who are these people writing the fiction of our produce?

Will I ever get past the wall that I have placed infront of my face?