CommandLess

Putt a knife at your throat iff your an avid reader for there is still lots of charlax you have not read in bed I lay the outside fould with skunk odour makes it hard to breathe inside the shelter formed mostly of old scavenged tents and flys to catch the rain. Why cannot the rain come when skunks are shotting smells at one another bites my nose they also chatter and they fuss like some people in Public places near me did the LORD meant for us to Suicide or just tried to teach us rather to survive a brief encounter with a skunk perimeter defunk the one only avoid the other is too much to want too much to eat is it bad too want or not iff bidden to a feast where many people sit where you must wait upon the portions small perhaps the host is mean the food is old quite scattered lost its size its filtered down to give a bite to all the men who kiss a mother and a miser not my fault at all as the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy moon leaping or leaving or looking abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz Why do you type that mother what does it meant ??? She smiled real big at that. It has all the alphabet letters in it, for practice, they just meant it for practice for us to learn with it it does not really meant nothing, NOW IS THE TIME FOR ALL GOOD MEN TO COME TO THE AID OF THIER COUNTRY. Again. She did not explain this one and it does not have all the letters so lets go find an answer. It was used as a typing exercise, i think there was another part to it because all letters of the alphabet were used to help with typing thank you Mother at her typewriter. I learned to type in class at High School Typing Class. I did not go fast but slow carefully I earned my D-minus at forty words a minute with two errors to be fixed when found. It must have been them Army Boots she wore. Them bad friends of brothers gangers scored there hits and left my body in the roadway to be killed on accidental death. Like a spagetti lots of spagetti stranded on the plate stringy no meat there at all iff its cooked and drained thick or thin sauce with flavor is the key sometimes there is not fiber no strands of noddles but just one giant meatball in the center of that plate. A prose poem never rhyming the ending off missing like a scrivner scrivening a  missive from GOD. Autonomous writting automatically announcing seconds with the meal iff only there is enought to go around as the lightbread disappears in vast quantities of water in a bizarre effort to ferment wine in stomachs while they sleep in silk pajamas after showering in stalls of mission halls free from Jesus while you stay COmmandLess.