Show me your wardrobe.

Trump can not demolish your concerns, your concerns are themselves not to be thy self, the cards play wild cards, and Trump breaks through walls, thanks to thinking big, a big wall, big bank, big bucks, and a whole lot of love, not enough to go around, but firm as a stone, bold as an eagle, a doonsbury cartoon, a golden lapel, the civil war to end them all, we are all guilty, but when will we merge into Africa, when will we live small, with less, in a tent?

A kick is not for my ribs only.

Commonly known as a creep.

I drop the cosmic egg and it breaks, time shifts in new ways, shifts fingers into grand designs and cloud like shape, and the crass lobster lives in a triangle, as the mods eat the shrimps..

We pursue tecknology and ignorance at our own peril.

It was a day to marvel at men, the guys were there, yes and very impressive bending iron bars and lifting amazons....

As for this war, you all must know what must happen, or should, I get it on my screen every day lately, the face is screaming, as if death descends is descending, the cards played, keep playing, room falling into pieces, just keep on spinning, a charade, with soldiers in a charade, a poorly written play, not Tolstoy, nor Stalin, its gone past that, trees burn with documents, now empty burning fast into solid entropy, says stop playing, stop the blood flowing like a river of brothers, sisters, children, it's too real, too heart breaking, with new improved machines, for nothing but rule, and its burnt, and the pride already damaged, the land and its inhabitants, its buildings, broken and disturbed.

I must have a jewel in my hand, something I have, but forgot about, and I am with the band, yet there is nothing but warped sunshine, your car is no ordinary car, so I go underneath like a cat, I like the sound of motors, I really do, I think I could run faster than a race car, I don't know why I ran so hard.

Now she rules Santa Clara!