Hane goes,"Stamps & Ice Creme, I must have stamps & Ice Creme!" <title?
So Anyway, the dark and mysterious figger wanders thru the West end of Town...he loves going to the Postal Station & can be occasionally persuaded to purchase a half gallon of Chocolate at the local creamery. Black suede boots shuffling in the grey mid-afternoon, Black jean=jacket & umbrella...altho it is not raining just then. A cloth bag is his other companion. He strides thru the essence of a brief yet important accomplishment. He is full up with cabbage noodles & chocolate coffee, maybe a glazed fastnacht~the thin dark figger pondres,"Am i the idle of my Age?" The sidewalk does not answer.
What in the name of Renee O'Connor was that^ all about? Especial shouts to all my Visitories! We hang, we schmooze, we answer e=mails about our favourite laundry soap. It clarifies the mind without muddying the fingers. OR does it? Well, it doesn't bother me so much here & again. I should pimp all the writers who pimp me~~yet i don't know what that means. So instead of burning my brain on rhetoric, the slack shall wandre off 2 the Penta=Glows and also read haiku [you know who you are] sub umbra me