Pesky looters of my mid day sun. Looks like rain shouting high on the horizon. Empty the prayer box for the secret grocery list space endeavor. Super sonic black matter clogging the cosmic drain. Soul saving special payment denied. Expired coupon clippings bury the landfill of children's hopes. Shrink wrapped potatoes sprouting third eyes in silence. 100% recycled parchment rolls. Spoils of war listed and taxed for the hungry. And I still have to drive home.