Parrot conspiracies. Conspiracies of spires. The spires lean together,
conspiring, how will they overmine the foundations of the sky above the
small cathedral town of Ypres Ste-Marie?

The architects of the sky and the archangels of the sky, having a
meeting in the netting over Arkhangel'sk. They've got nets like this
all over the world, all over the overflow world, to keep planes and
humans from overflowing into space.

All those byzantine motherfuckers, and their selenium nuances.
Lost in a selenium delirium.

Mellowjobs
Mellowblow
Mellow Joe, working in a cool cool office. In a cool cool cube. Inventing
fragrant slogans for doctors.
Using his hippie dharma at the service of the Hippocrates.
Using his hippie mentos out at the Hippodrome.
Hippos and nipples in crates, at Clinic Hippocrates.
The nipples are from severed cancerous breasts. Don't disturb that parcel,
those nipples are headed to the eraser factory who will put them on free
school pencils.

When I was a child, they had free school pencils, shiny deep blue with golden
script all along one side. Huge for little hands, or so the logic goes. I never really
liked pencils, maybe because of these logs. The lines soften up so fast, and
unless you constantly get up to resharpen, pretty soon you're writing only fat
diffuse smeary lines. Or, you need to keep rotating the pencil to get the sharp
edge. They think it's good for little hands, I guess, to have a huge goddamn
pencil to hold onto, when really it's a terrible burden! Hands that are smaller
can handle a normal-sized pencil, which seems larger to hands that are
smaller, savvy? A blue log pencil to a childish hand is like a frickin rolling pin --
better yet, give em golf pencils, only with erasers installed. Don't worry, it
won't lead to a wave of cheating on the links.