Militarisation
Over six tons of gorilla shrapnel is the same gesture as throwing ten ton whales into a puddle. Wisely wary. Be not only a segment be a slice. And sluice dumps never chatter obscenities so never throw an ashtray in the air. Expected are the alternators arriving in horse drawn ships. Shooting shaping striving singing Singhalese singularly. And a plate balancing on a two centimetre tea cup in a unique dolls house. Rifle not a t-shirt. Purple berry holding hands with a dewberry then roll roll in the mighty surf. A sure way of finding a horseshoe in a rainbow arch then. Archetypical archaic antiquities. With an amphibian laugh. Shut all the doors. And ceilings. And do not bang into an open cupboard. For to look within a cupboard is to see and hear the shells. Cantering carnage coming. And a large baked bread kneeling by a pool. Pretty is not the writhing of a torso ripped in half. Nor is it the antics of a lemon lipped lady. Statement striving show. And a steamed lobster. Calibrate that. No. Militarisation
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