Having my way with Ulysses

In cups of rocks it slops

Yet is it, this ale of man, for him, our hubuljoynted, just a tug and a fistful as for Culsen that Patagoreyan, chieftain of chokanchuckers and his moyety joyant, uner teh foamer dispensation when he pullupped the turfeycork by the greats of gobble out of Loughk neagk. When, pressures be to our hoary frother, the pop gave his sullen bulletaction and, bilge, sled a movement of catharic emulsipotion down the sloppery slide of a slaunty to tilted lift-ye-landsmen.10:13 am

Just saw a beer truck swerve on the street, bottles bumping around inside.  Imagine that rolling over.  Truck door springing open and a huge flood leaking out, flowing together, purling, widely flowing, floating foampool, flower unfurling.

One Response to In cups of rocks it slops

Intercourse, eyeball to eyeball.

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