blogle Was born a new sound poetry but written bury the deceased John poultries waiting in the attic of the dilapidated Elysée last few parsecs and die was finally fulfilled.
Was born to spit. Was born on
cleaver Guillotin especially for men of power.
Was born
the separation of body and capellou as the legislative and the executive.
Was born ... The crap, there:
http://elements-de-langage.blogspot.com/
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