The author’s preface to the reader You reader could desire unpolished impertinent disturbance pleasant murmuring that impregnate muses with imperfections, folly and wit Only this custom will pardon my faults I have free will You are property exposed without a preface

The author’s preface to the reader

The author’s preface to the reader You reader could desire unpolished impertinent disturbance pleasant murmuring that impregnate muses with imperfections, folly and wit Only this custom will pardon my faults I have free will You are property exposed without a preface

Rest for the wicked  Southampton, Saint George's day Bees buzzing through my head (They could be dragons)  Me searching for words lost between croaking floor boards (The snoring encore)  Jane gently jests Superman takes no orders (Where did that come from?)  Beer for the dancing man Meat sausages with vegan mash Rest for the wicked

Rest for the wicked Southampton, Saint George's day Bees buzzing through my head (They could be dragons) Me searching for words lost between croaking floor boards (The snoring encore) Jane gently jests Superman takes no orders (Where did that come from?) Beer for the dancing man Meat sausages with vegan mash Rest for the wicked

This one’s dedicated to you, love hunter | Unassorted stories

Angela Van Son travelled all the way from The Netherlands to perform her poem, 'This one's dedicated to you, love hunter'

Pithy  Ten drummers air-drumming Angel of Death in a row  Synchronised they are out of tune Air beating the wrong key  Photo: Angel by Pastor Vincent Stone

Pithy

Pithy Ten drummers air-drumming Angel of Death in a row Synchronised they are out of tune Air beating the wrong key Photo: Angel by Pastor Vincent Stone

Please edit me  I falter, I fumble I alter, I stumble  Your work is never done

Please edit me

I falter, I fumble I alter, I stumble Your work is never done Day 16

My willow of sorrow  My willow of joy  You show your strength  when you’re naked  You eternally bring  the first signs of hope  I long to conceal myself  in your green embrace  My willow of sorrow  My willow of joy

My willow of joy

My willow of sorrow My willow of joy You show your strength when you’re naked You eternally bring the first signs of hope I long to conceal myself in your green embrace My willow of sorrow My willow of joy

Trial (Error)  Yoda said there is no try I struggled as I tried to understand this (no) while I understood this (no)  whilst I didn't understand it  I gave it another try or  did I give it another do or  maybe another don't  I gave up in the end There is no Yoda I said just me

Trial (Error)

Who's counting?  Sweet little sixteen wrote fourteen lines to make her number one love her second to none  The seventh son of the seventh son took a fifth after eight  That's murder in the third degree he stated, satisfied after killing his fourth zombie  Nine, ten to kill again thirteen birds with fifteen stone as he dropped a tup on the aviary

Who’s counting?

‘You can't have your frog and eat it’ T-Shirt by AngelavanSon

Curiosity found love on Mars  Extra, extra, read all about it. Curiosity found love on Mars Nasa expects life next

Curiosity found love on Mars

Curiosity found love on Mars Extra, extra, read all about it. Curiosity found love on Mars Nasa expects life next

There's no art in that  I guess it's too late to be a farmer now that my hands are tied to the hind legs of a raging bull  He's constrained now but he won't be in a minute when the gates open after they've prodded his balls with a pitchfork to  Well, do I need to explain that?  The peasants did not take my art too well They mind pictures of naked women raping bulls in their butt hole more than they mind real life violence  Ultraviolence? There's no art in that  I guess it's too late to be a…

There’s no art in that

There's no art in that I guess it's too late to be a farmer now that my hands are tied to the hind legs of a raging bull He's constrained now but he won't be in a minute when the gates open after they've prodded his balls with a pitchfork to Well, do I need to explain that? The peasants did not take my art too well They mind pictures of naked women raping bulls in their butt hole more than they mind real life violence Ultraviolence? There's no art in that I guess it's too late to be a…

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