Why there are no comments on this

The perfumed hog of density ran-coiled the pink cherub into a frenzy of anathematized sweltering. Indeed, sweltering became its own reward in the be-humbled man maze of pork chops and wildly fenestrated brick houses.

I’ll hough and I’ll pough and I’ll blow your house in.

Well that’s the way everything in this world started, back in the early fifties, when the world accidentally was created by one of those building-sized proto-computers.

Finally, the world ended sometime during the mid seventies. We are all now background radiation to that kind of mess.

(And here I put in a word for James Brown, the Godfather of Soul, a man who needs no introduction, an artist beyond all art, a one-man planet of meta-intelligence. That word is HEY!)