Spoetry
I Called An Early Break.
"Get some racktime. Pack your bags. "
This side of Paradise is for men only.
Not only haven't we seen any from superior stock, dumbhead academics let the most priceless object in the universe slip.
Neither Floyd nor Steengo answered so it was up to me. I nodded.
that lowered the ability to think clearly, that left the brain open to
neck. When I squeezed it the eyes glowed greenly and a pressure-
Then summon your troops. Get one of your techs to research all your
Hail the Home and Joy in Survival! he called out.
oversized belt buckle. Bending double until could reach up to the
Death. That is the penalty for stealing from the Mint.
Meaning is a difficult
thing to work out.
A lot of meaning is dependent on repetition, or sequence.
Any one thing with no history
or past has no connection.
But once you see a series of things, you start making connections between them.
Or rather, the connections are made in you,
and you give voice to them.
Bits of other peoples work and ad copy and other useless things, copied over so many times they have no identity, sent out for who knows why. Received over the years as junk spam e-mails.
Trilog Hooka
Mipsic? I echoed inanely.
more. That is why your services have been engaged.
Cutting and slashing and murder and looting,
figures. Chances of an accidental explosion; zero. Chances that the
Steengo was gone.
Press the button instead of fiddling with the damn thing!
knee, his kneecap, looked unhurt.
The driver was silent as a tomb-and about as attractive. I watched
frown.
about as tall as my waist and almost as wide. My companions had
people living along the time tracks you explore.
until you return. A payment of one fedha is required for attendance.
The Wind Blows Bard And The Tree Limbs Wave
Spontaneous creation would you believe!
All the males gather around
the moment we launched into a mellow blues number.
A galley-without slaves or oars, Floyd said.
He grinned in victorious triumph, bent over and placed an antique
"...anomalies and other factors, I am still forced to believe that the
you are untutored in science, but the sound and fumes are merely the..."
have a problem. If you would identify yourselves by name it would make
This got his attention all right and I closed my fist tight as he
could just as easily have killed you. Then we could rustle all your
No. But you might be the administrator of the Save Liokukae Fund.
Common sense. We're Three To Your One.
Reasonable, Steengo said doubtfully. But what are we doing with...
can discuss it . . .
Weapons ready-and I have some concussion grenades handy if things
inside. I opened it a crack and looked at the empty room beyond.
And it will be. You will be dead, the man said from the other side
You will come with us, Indefatigable said, making it sound like an
whats next on the agenda?
you, an aging amateur musician drawn from retirement to risk his life
I dont wonder. But you have to understand-my patience has just run
Abetto Motivat
decision had been made at a moment of life and death. Nov, I was not
why was her memory still popping up?-you catch more porcuswine with
It wasnt easy, but we finally worked all the details out of him.
talking about is getting to Liokukae with all the equipment I need,
A pleasant divertimento-but the next time you play it I would
discarded clothing, generally being as obnoxious as possible at this
Let me tell you it was like suicidesville around here when we heard
at this life sentence and kept our silence as we packed up our
fist against his chest with an echoing thud. We did the same since it
cant. So stay here and you will be safe. You have the word of James
Plenitude Evolven
did the voice that rang out an instant later.
cant. So stay here and you will be safe. You have the word of James
got or you get it.
instrument and broke the silence.
his head.
garbage world.
Most interesting. I follow a slightly different way. But my way
Id like that, Floyd said cheerfully, as fed up as I was with all
I dug the photograph from an inside pocket, took a deep breath-and
Now I really am tired-to be continued, I breathed, dropping back
At this the colored kliegs burst down on us, revealing our pink-
Up. Quietly on soft soles. A change of plan was very much in order
Lunati Sybi
sparkled in my direction. I raised my finger to them in the
demonstrated to their satisfaction how a great deal more could be
past the throne and into the opening. Madonette touched Steengos
regain this freedom the myth tells us we have to find the ball under
had found the artifact so our mission was accomplished. The fact that
Bonan tagon-kaj bonvenu al Paradizo.
Not smoking, Steengo said. Sipping at the font of ancient wisdom.
eat them where they touch the cuticle. Which means that the power is
really think that I would let you get away with this, did you?
allowed. Or if the women did come this way they would have to have
It's getting harder and harder to figure out meaningless connections. Everything has become so rich in layers of information that tropes assemble themselves and play themselves off.
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Just This Little Task Force, Can You Do it?
"... what? Im betting on women. Either that or an awful lot of cloning
had arrived."
Perhaps the locals were used to these things but it was pleasant hangings, tapestries of sunshine and floral landscapes.
He looked sheepish. Come on, Jim, you know better than that.
"I even. . .
-corridor by screaming, gun-waving troops. Turned and marched firmly
veterans records searched as well. When approached he was more than-
"...really had had a longer sleep than I realized."
Why was I uncomfortable when he said this? This was my old mate
Aforecite Foote
No, never.
the picture before.
Fido sat and waited, then barked a welcome when the two men appeared.
was all the time that we needed to hump our loads through the mud of
I hope not, I husked in return. Madonette reached over and patted
Look, I said, having enough of this and very much needing a few
shrub.
Youre on. I unstuck my canteen and took a swig, then whistled to
I turned to him and raised my hands palms out in what I hoped was a
is a taboo topic. But, since you raised the issue I assume that you
Slipped past Floyds immobile body.
Privet, My Dear Friend
I feel like I am a little lost kitten. I don't have a strong man's shoulder to lay on. I am writing to you as I
want to find a husband to live all life with him only!
I want to open my heart to my man, to give myself to him, to support him every day and to build happiness together,
walking along the life way hand in hand... I miss badly the wonderful romantic moment when a man is whispering the
words of tenderness into woman's ears, when she is holding his strong hand and looking into his smart eyes and they
both feel that there is nothing around, just them... I want to be happy...
Married Paradise
Everyone is interested in what kind of woman is in dating, right?
Personally, a married woman is the best! Married woman is erotic! Married women can meet!
It's not uncommon for a young girl to be a daughter who can't meet her until she meets her, but a married woman who has some life experience can understand the story. The tuna rate is low, and if you meet, you're a married woman!
There is a certain combination of anarchy and discipline in the way I work.
Who soweth good seed shall surely reap The year grows rich as it groweth old, And life's latest sands are its sands of gold!
There is no greater hell than to be a prisoner of fear.
My friend is he who will tell me my faults in private.
I am having so much fun performing, I feel almost guilty. I think, my God, I hope no one comes and busts me for this.
The end of life is to be like God, and the soul following God will be like Him.
Power always thinks it has a great soul and vast views beyond the comprehension of the weak.
There is a condition worse than blindness, and that is, seeing something that isn't there.
By a lie, a man...annihilates his dignity as a man.
Lazy people are always anxious to be doing something.
There are people who laugh to show their fine teeth and there are those who cry to show their good hearts.
We're more popular than Jesus Christ now. I don't know which will go first rock and roll or Christianity.
Hell is paved with good Samaritans.
Away from their profundity of surface.
Glimmering of light:
Thinking of your abiding spirit brings
The winged winds, captives of that age-old foe
Along the walls are only empty niches,
To mark that square, perhaps: were Mère and Père
demonstrating their talent for comedy—stroke
In white, in paint too representative
To mark that square, perhaps: were Mère and Père
This gap in time, this season not their own,
Right, and appears from here to be overcome
Life, or only joy, that stands out
shaded by live oaks and bottlebrush trees
Yes. The obvious
Yes. You'd want that said, (if you
to matter, for the flushed boys are muscular
Is the moon to grow
People might see to be the opening
Standing in the way of the truth. A white
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And next time I'll let you have it in the teeth.
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Ur partner will be calling you "mr big dik"
A matter of getting all that right . . .
To reach out into its own vanishing
He is harsh, dismal, ice—that is, exiled;
Of the matter of snow here. Both of us have grasped
Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,
Winds blow sharp, what then?
Onto my frozen fingers.
It is as though I were at a second threshold.
Green lilac buds appear that won't survive
Wheel tracks entrench themselves in snow, yet painted
Thinking of your abiding spirit brings
My keyhole blows a gale
References
Silence, are in his hand—birds in a snare;
The surge of swirling wind defines
Writhing their stunted limbs,
In dense bare branches, or the ubiquitous
and preening, dancing on the basepaths,
Side of the painting, the world of that wise, white,
President Lady
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Please feel free to take a look.
She stretches a hand toward the toothy sleeper
Toward something that the world is pointing toward
A salamander scuttles across the quiet
Centimeters—that the height of the canvas
As if your human shape were what the storm
How can they get the point of how a world
In Winter Haven, the ballplayers are stretching
Want anything said at all, which I still doubt)
Billows the fog, cloaks
That images of roads, whether composed
Of Boyg of Normandy . . .
Lucky the bell—still full and deep of throat,
Among us, only Alberti, then Sangallo,
Winds blow sharp, what then?
Merely a mockery of spring
To run, as in the time of the bee, seeking
That patch of white at the very end of the road
demonstrating their talent for comedy—stroke
He never even dreams, being sheer snow;