gregfool's profile

Red letters hang from the side of the truck like leaves.   Moving day and Pandora’s driving the truck-- one hand on the wheel, arm hanging out the window.   This bitter heat is not mine, she thinks.   Pandora moves out of fiction,   “What do I have left to give?” I want to allow you to think. “What do I have left to give?”   Missing control, Pandora rests sunglasses, turns dials.   Pandora, breathe.   Pandora isn’t home ye...

Red letters hang from the side of the truck like leaves. Moving day and Pandora’s driving the truck-- one hand on the wheel, arm hanging out the window. This bitter heat is not mine, she thinks. Pandora moves out of fiction, “What do I have left to give?” I want to allow you to think. “What do I have left to give?” Missing control, Pandora rests sunglasses, turns dials. Pandora, breathe. Pandora isn’t home yet. The idea of the porcelain figure: Pandora lays...

Jesus was a hard drinking man, standing out on Olive Street trying to find some action. It was Spring Break, and all of His girlfriends had gone down to Florida. Jesus took out a flask labeled Holy Water and took a sip of the amber liquid. At the crest of the hill Jesus noticed some flashing blue lights and two cops harassing a prostitute. The prostitute was the only action Jesus had seen all night, so He went to see what he could do. Jesus walked up to the first cop to find out what was goin...

She whispers to me, her fears of genocide and what to wear to work. She's sitting down at the desk I cannot go beyond this turn the page and again it is written end at “work,” prepare response, prepare to whisper back. Begin again: She whispers to me (mouth) moving close to ear her fears (so close) I can smell the cigarette smoke of genocide (tongue) starting center , moving along the ridged roof of mouth and what to wear (her breasts) now brushing against my arm to work. Pull away. Turn head...

Remember kids: Scantily clad prostitution intuitively capitalist. She thinks slowly, pulling down her wet panties clinging to her ankles. In this Victorian room life mingles in violent apparitions. An actress giving him evidence of what he wants: Her stock, which the gentlemen always appreciates. - Her words on the matter: "Oh god! Oh god Yes! YES!!" Her thoughts on the matter: I wonder if the sex was good? "Father Love Fuck" a blizzard among yellow leaves "I'm a whore!" dead hollow tree . . ...