Ticket Stubs and Scrapbook Fodder
I've hijacked a few rides in my day along the highways and truck stops, through the fields of winter wheat and sugar beets.
I've hooked into the next idea to soothe a restless mind, slogging through the netherworld of iso-pragmeroticism.
A new galaxy is just the trick I thought, and hitched my wagon to a star. Oh, what fresh galactic air! There is no substitute, but the time did come, as it so often does.
I had a hard time by the tail then, for a year or so, but when the climate changed,
I climbed aboard a magic carpet heading East. Oh, what exhilarating, spicy clangy saffron nights among the weavy symbolism.
And still I cannot resist a fetching invitation to a far off land, for look what I have found among the ticket stubs and scrapbook fodder.
I've hooked into the next idea to soothe a restless mind, slogging through the netherworld of iso-pragmeroticism.
A new galaxy is just the trick I thought, and hitched my wagon to a star. Oh, what fresh galactic air! There is no substitute, but the time did come, as it so often does.
I had a hard time by the tail then, for a year or so, but when the climate changed,
I climbed aboard a magic carpet heading East. Oh, what exhilarating, spicy clangy saffron nights among the weavy symbolism.
And still I cannot resist a fetching invitation to a far off land, for look what I have found among the ticket stubs and scrapbook fodder.
India: Ramana Athreya Confirms a New Bird Species
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| Liocichla Bugunorum 2006 (Reuters) |
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