Doctorpepper (doctorpepper) wrote in mappalujo,
Doctorpepper
doctorpepper
mappalujo

Haunted by Napoleon Bonaparte ... by way of "able was I, ere I saw Elba."

* * *

I, Madam. I made radio. So I dared! Am I mad? Am I?

Dog sees Ada -- now Ada, I saw Ada.

On short symbol to no denial: eyes omit naive dog-desserts. Evil right, old-name diets. A tree-bonnet foliate, relax: if Ada did pull order, read. Ada had a foe, fire-rose facade tool, too-hot yard Iraq: arid Elijah at a haj. I lead a reviled noose, Canadian!

It is coded, on a pistol by Rome, "Man is an ardor pelt, tactiler, sad." A tacit sin, a rude Roman enema. I ran; Agnus Dei, Dada lived on.

I, a gap, a zero monad, Ada's nose: "Rift on, evil royal pilots!" I pass a nasal acolyte. I pondered, now idle.

His flack: late no-no's, tits, a cow. Two-cow, to tenor of God! A sin is a sign, ignoble udder-cases! La femme fatale gnawed at a phone-post, also lost call, eh? She'll act solo, slats open. Oh, pat a dew-angel at a femme false. Sacred duel, bonging is a sin; is a dog? For one to two-cow t --


sprawl warps: Godot to dog. Set an I; mull: it illuminates. Dogs sass God! Oh no, Don Ho! Step on no pets! Draw, O coward! Put Eliot's toilet up! Flee to me, remote elf! Yawn a more Roman way!

No, sir, away: a papaya war is on! Go deliver a dare, vile dog.

Non-words drown on. No, devil slob, my symbols lived on!

Luz azul, se orar -- raro es, luz azul! I did mimic -- I'm .. I'm ... did I? Live on, O do, to do no evil. I never defile life, Dr -- even I. Do geese see God? DNA hymn is in my hand. Eve damned Eden, mad Eve!

-- wo, cast it so none talk calfs!

I held, I wondered. No piety local as an ass. A pistol (I play, or live not) fires on sad Ada. "No more!" Zap! Again. O devil! Ada died, sung an aria. Men, enamored, uranistic at Ada's relit cattle prod, ran as in a memory blot.

Sip an ode, Doc; sit in. Aid an ace, soon deliver Ada! Elijah!

At a haj, I led Iraq (arid ray to hoot), looted a cafe sore, rife of Ada. Had Ada erred? Roll up. Did Ada fix ale, retail? Often. "No beer taste," I demand, "loth girl! I've stressed! Go, deviant!"

"I mosey!"

"Elaine, do not lob my Stroh's!"


No Ada was I. Ada won. Ada sees God.

I, madam: I made radio. So I dared. Am I mad? Am I?
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