Talking by numbers. There is no railroad here. Half of a dozen, half of a score. Plain in a black box. Scored by the tracks. A week of bounty. Six days to a week, six hats to a shoebox. Walking after midnight. Soundings of the big blue sea. Grand Central Station. How to photograph women. There are shoes that have never seen a map. Mutiny of kindness. Illinois Central. If the blood is good, the bone is better. Three hats will surely fill one head. How to graph the hundred headless women. Many a tear is spoken 'twixt the bear and the heir. Flash. You're it. Any old tier is broken midst the bare and the air. A train at anchor in the harbor of the terminal. How do you do? Pleasure cannot be kept in a shoebox; there are many whistles forgotten by history. Play under the trestle. The Old Northern Maine and Minnesota Trunk Line. Captain Bligh had a friendly smile. How to wrestle women. The hat is the anchor of the thought. Many a heart is broken, after the ball. Any old port in a storm. Wrestle by numbers. The shoe walks, the clock talks, the lover squawks and then he balks. Seven players to a week. Cover your tracks.
Believe it or not, this kind of thing takes longer to write than a normal entry.
Posted by: chrysostom | 12/22/2007 at 06:54 PM