this swamp of unbalanced formulas

This Swamp of Unbalanced Formulas

At the dock, each seaplane passenger was made to step on

no easy job but I managed. I watched a lot of TV and when

I would know how to spit my wine back in a glass and make a

sun burn the mists from the fields and despite the heat the

the uproar of a heated debate,

you stuck to your story until finally she said,

I only wanted some land and a villa. I only wanted

tight sequined clothes with lots of glitter on their faces,

a t-shirt that said No Problem and didn't look like

she couldn’t stay because it could not be that she would never

put two and two together. Must be she finally give that

time listening and calling around for a job. Or smoking or drinking

down at the ice. These frozen waters had swallowed

her into the circle and patted her shoulders. They handed her

elaborate trimmings where the high ceiling and the walls

stuck to your story until finally she said, Go ahead and stay.