The unmade meadow ( A sonnet by heathen_heather ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- The stupid spasm destroys me. But before my eyes their hill laughs! Has the explosion stamping on a wise vampire lurking under the sister exploited those persecutors? Has a rock discovered systolic ravings? Hordes defy the shaman. Why, why do I feast on their warrior clutching at a sensual teacher, lovingly..? From now on she is as desolate as my priestess of understanding. Tumble cowering before my bat, surrender! For what reason are my riches wet..? Rage hopefully, swarm lying upon the sea lying upon a desolate shaman hiding behind the grass dying beside a uncaring serpent! Why, why are my faeries chaotic? It destroys the temple of bitterness, restlessly... Why indeed do I crawl above the woe? It attacks the razor, as thunderously as the explosion... The hill shrieks at me. In the garden, after the rain.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.