Call it Everything

Toward an era when not to care about the meaning of a word was not to care about your life. Isle of Wight, Isle of Wight, it'll be alright, it'll be alright-- When to not care about the use of a word was to not care about the meaning, so speaking became triage or fodder on her wings, Coptic, particular, you're making too many friends, you don't know any of them

Magician, you're in a groove

An arsenal of letters and surfaces sufficient to propel our bodies onward, where we will set things straight



Someone's infinity machine humming in the corner
No more subjunctive
Keep the sun