My armature was strolling sightless in the rose garden when I formed around it, catalyzed by an assistant set-dresser placing the fifth candle in a six-armed girandole.
They fired her last week for scraping an applewood caryatid's thigh. I heard the shouting and feigned confusion tinged with dread; my patron was present.
Gayfeather, colic-root, rattlesnake-master, blazing star,( devil's bite, Cahaba torch, prairie-pine,) I took your list to that fireworks store in Upland, gathered & checked off each rocket, then imagined how you'd stare at a forest fire (guilty? gleeful?) as I put them all back.
dry cannibalism nonsense
Not in the published edition, anyway. Boswell's epilogue, Feast of Johnson, only circulated as a barely legible pamphlet, evading republication by consistently disappointing both the prurient & the hungry with its reticence.
From William Joseph Showalter's biography of Asarum canadense in The Book of Wild Flowers. "...the fungus gnats and the flesh flies are early on the job..." Mmm. No mention of its roots being delicious & contributive to renal failure, but one doesn't usually focus on the effects of consuming one's biographee.
Register swerves, confusions of scale.
Mostly within 30 miles of Philadelphia, because of a curse.
Une instance se voulant accueillante pour les personnes queers, féministes et anarchistes ainsi que pour leurs sympathisant·e·s. Nous sommes principalement francophones, mais vous êtes les bienvenu·e·s quelle que soit votre langue.
A welcoming instance for queer, feminist and anarchist people as well as their sympathizers. We are mainly French-speaking people, but you are welcome whatever your language might be.