I dreamt up a cottage of Mars brick with window-potted foreign algae. Romantic spacesuit hops through canyons probably inhabited with purple tri-faced terrestrials [laser-laws were erected for human safety]. Sunless weeks with constant complaints of my attempt to find a way to make lunar- power work as electric and water (and my teche-mind will... i-in ti-ime). In the middle of pumping factory-made gas inside, I hear you whisper;
“Astroturf is fake grass, baby.”
Lovers Never Tell · Thu Jul 24, 2008 @ 09:21am · 0 Comments |