A private-public distinction, extension 8, 
no longer limits outcomes for a buffered work force.    
 
Besides giving you empathy-like babble  
I rewrite over your agenda,    
 
A vapidly growing handcraft   
once I launch it —   
 
We got married without knowing side effects   
— wait, I forgot why I called.

Land use. That’s what the new world is about. Are we breeding steer or picking pansies? 
Just two modalities. Sorry, I have no other apolitical associations I can share. I ran through a dude ranch then tried raw energy.

Don’t know why the ranch stands there still in no summation after the transaction but before I turn away, circumscribed, all hat, no cattle.

117: What’s virtue? First, I have to repay all bonds as punishment, my willfulness and errors.
I recommend free time with ex-writers, video vignette note takers, engineers, others unknown, indistinguishable from applied scientists.

For now, after work we non-haters accumulate human octane wearing our Ray Bans and tailored tees.

To which (given time) ‘should’ = ‘want to’ = our bravo waking proof — scant proof without you, dear, dragged, transported far from your tri-level.

All to the winds since our inner bonds still tie me day by day under your august love:

But there’s also solitude, as conincidences accumulate as desert constants farthest from your sight.