Love you, no he’s nervous, and we just now had a couple of coffees. An urban sock or about three avocados. No crap no yep. The other day. On the board, you do have milk if that will go away with for service, I saw Snickers ones the other, do it for the cash I had the capability they see it got me into are they there already. How to earn money from the custom well I’ll see.
From AFL country I’ve been curious to know. And like just properly an architect. Lives an amazing. Isn’t she she’s a gorgeous. They will never see why they, will just need to be prepared two of the regular. Like when he was at my flat and saw me it was credibility to the venture I don’t know where I’m going.
From AFL country I’ve been curious to know. And like just properly an architect. Lives an amazing. Isn’t she she’s a gorgeous. They will never see why they, will just need to be prepared two of the regular. Like when he was at my flat and saw me it was credibility to the venture I don’t know where I’m going.
I made this poem by transposing found phrases into the metre of a pre-existing text: Gertrude Stein’s ‘Objects’ in Tender Buttons. The found text comes from speech I overheard while in one of the four spaces in which I often write: a café in Balaclava, on an afternoon train down the Sandrigham line, in Bourke St mall or at my kitchen table. (The titles are Stein’s.) I wanted to maintain the spoken rhythms of the Stein, but the results only show up the constant skirmish between metrical rhythms and the phrasal rhythms of the vernacular, one-upping each other within the line. This poem is extracted from a set of 50.
