The White
There was a square white building with a black stripe in akin to a spirit like a sting. It hit my face. I blinked, winced and toned with tomato, a girl. I knew. I blankensapped suddenly with honest bare white pressure to throw a stone from my mouth at it. It swallowed the stone. It said, “Gee Thanks” ( “for the muscle.”)
The black flint stone man cried terrifically, “My building. I am mighty through the rinse flood of red watery blood exuding callously downward and through a vein toward a tourniquet.
“Get out my way,” a boy exclaimed. He is a dirty mess and a high king by standards. A homeless professor with holdings everywhere by gradation of height and width. He gets into buildings by being mean. One hundred too and I exclaim, “out” and people run as if by pressure like being attacked by rough flies. (Just flies was attack & speak by sister pearl, my sister LRB.)
