Friday, November 23, 2012

is it real or non-fiction?

If a melancholy hermit buys a lotto ticket, would an angry arachnid bite her near the secondary airport?

When acidified barnacles bend backwards to be basic, a buddy named ph would come to pay a visit. The question becomes, how much does one pay a visit?

In a neighbourhood made up of pregnant lichen, a tepid quagmire and past participles, a number of unicyclists used spray paint to take their three-legged cat for a walk. The question becomes, what number?

If it was up to me, which it must be since I am the author, undoubtedly the number would be prime.

If in the summer a boat without wings danced the canary while listening to the sound of riding an elevator up eleven storeys.

If you can be reminded of a distant memory by only the slightest whiff of an odour that dissipates immediately; what happens when seventeen gallons of violent flatulence is thrown at you?

If you were to pick only one, two, three, five or seven of the items in this post to respond to.

No comments: