I Love It Almost All

This one goes out to you, on your back asleep, touching your center and slightly splayed, your legs, my the dirty dirty minds; we'll call this whole world Atlanta, but don't call me Daddy, we haven't a clue as to what that means, and I slant that that sincerely. Signed with an ass above the ass tattoo, and that's ass three and now five times, so go unlock the prize box, the one that brings people back into the bottle we were and that we are now just remnants of; shards in the guise of sheeps, for eating by our own kind, they have diamond grills and love barbeque. Orwell was mostly right about things, slant things, but he was wrong about the nature of people, we are so most certainly not, slant not, mostly good; and you only have to travel some small bit of this wee world and watch all the vox video you can to know it, sure as pain. Well it was big, then it was small, then it big again. I can't wait for the butterflies, one should plant their bush, it is way utubeable in the fall. I confess to an unhealthy interest in Arkansas and words.