Instead of, almost there...

It's best to be wrong with a hammer in hand then to be right outside thank you - A birthday song for the birthday crew

As in the hot jazzy beats of the day, the steel and glass represented here borrows from a rich tradition of Latin flavors like samba and salsa. You'll see this in the strong interplay of the steel and glass as it reflects the seasons and the lively urban lifestyles that surround it. The tower is guided by the principles of song. It's measured and it serves it's purpose. The beginning and the end serve a similar function to the building's top and it's bottom, they're similar but different. The one is informed by the other and our experience of both is all the more rich for connecting each of them.

We'll stack the plates on the edge of the sink and talk about the farm for awhile. I can gather my thoughts and shew out a few of the more persistent fly's in my truth. But for now let's get this story straight. Our crazy union is blind in the worst way. We can't help ourselves when we're by each others side. Now we've parted and you sir are broken hearted. Would you say that this is correct...

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Totem

Tonight is old. It's wett but current and bored. I'm watching nothing but stars in the often sky that happen... do... tonight is lame like old, young like song, even as blue... Equal after the sun, noon or scripted yellow you are to me... A we (as sound)

Whiskers, chanting, "swap me, swap me!"

Fig.32) Aging poorly We're just together, taking ourselves for a tidy sum of walk and now our toes are wet and cool in the Lak, beside a cool stone that could drive a modernist to their flint. There's a listening experience that feels prepared, "our's for now, ours it says! Here's the hammer and it's wrapped in its own design already. A union in time-space, this card is our greetings, our massive, our very patience is reflected in this resolve." Suddenly, there's a cut away and she's wearing the pants that I've made for her, slow blue like painted smoke . I'm thinking about her hunched over the kitchen table, something that's stuck. There's a carving knife in her hand but from here, it's the same as an old spoon. From here my computer is sitting on my guilty seat, I'm thinking about champagne and comparing it to a thick wad bees and wondering whats in it for me? It's an anxious season, filled with not enough of anythin

Songlet is Best

fig.0231) FizzGraf MT. "Magical, like a chorus of like minded souls in a froth of cotton fumes." Over fake doors, under refurbished ladders, gypsum board and bent yellow pipes offering us an unmade bed and a stained window. Our one chance at tomorrow. Magnetic guts from at least a thousand cassettes are strewn across the room. Hee-Haw style, fancy dress shoes cling to the floor like it's '86 all over again. Hee-Haw, goes the sound. Hee-Haw, we're closer then we were. Hee-Haw, it's hilarious. Listening for trains, leaning out over the rails like two people with no time at all. Better maps, that's what we need. We could use a melody for singing with this chorus; in whose curious presence more patients wait to be found. With hands over our heads, someone passes by and asks, "gender?" There's stars in this sweet tooth of mine and some atoms left from the sky, Tonight the whole angle of heaven sleeps without light. Ordering its coffee darkest, t

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