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phil
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Probably sensing a debilitating nonsense coming in way of the van, Van parked by a van. And vanned across several vans in a hope of vanning to the next stop. But the spot was with oily glumps and Van rolled over stumps like a chump, and fell out with a bump, onto a stump, where he got on a bumblebee sting, and stung. Stung, he flung the rug and pulled his gun making everybody run for fun he hugged the tree as the sun shone alone on phones and homes and his jeweled eye's fractured lense scraped by a spatula hung from a bee's nest. Too many people had witnessed the event to be related to tape, so the paper said in the end that's where they built the mall, with guns and rugs and bumblebee spoons, all in little cups they sell to children. Although the spoons, their stocks do poorly, lower prices help support it, the North American trade, until one day...
The music was light & full of holes. A harp plucking it's strings, the sound of nature trickling away, a relaxed saturday in Mexico, the air so dry, the best thing to do was lie low until evening. Miguel and Supio were checking the last of their inventory in their small mall near the fence, when it was discovered, a small wooden type of spoon, that bumblebee spoon, the canadian's had been selling. Those filthy stinking jockstraps Miguel thought to himself, sinking so low to steal the vary heritage of his native people. He knew he should have never sold land to those French people, who lived over there.
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030623
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