the obomba con fundation crew was tearing shit up at the end of the midway, secretly in pain view. we throw the baseball round the west side, a twister blanket left behind falu. we twist a mo and head to the erased public garden by the experimental station and look for the vanished ada, then scoot round the cougar school to the leafy tunnel by the tracks and a new painting appears by fawn—falu!
No comments:
Post a Comment