yer negative aren't you? i mean that was a winter image sent that shows nothing. not really. what about all those skiers? and those contracts given to the plough men and their monstrous night truck beasts pushing plougin and shovelin' so all them nice people can work get money cash flow holiday esp. in the south sea ~ and other fine place around the globe gold global belt of tourist hideaway holiday ~

yer becoming a pain in the perennial arse. you know that? give me a cig, will ya? I gotta rain thunder cry & weep with pouts and fans . over the gristle of gout and
foreign world of star shaped shanks ~ bodies of love. touch of gorse. velt? is that the word? hmmmmmmmm not so . country as all that~ is it now. with slush mush cold feet frozen feet buttered noses, scones inthe bones. drama for air to yer dharma care.
speaking of fictions see this

and prisons and prisonerzz de love ~

say the wink of lust love and gladly kissing air
or soft by way we come by night
corralling our fosters ~

so we plot nightly daily our escape ~ for good ~

Comment: yer for sure sir a poet
but you smoke too much ~
That goes without saying ~