This is by far the latest I’ve posted during the month of blogging every day.  Probably a good thing it’s over tomorrow.

Today I completed my magnetic bulletin board project in the kitchen, which combined with a box of more than 400 magnetic words (and pieces like “ing” and “ly”) to present a challenge.  Could I use every single one of them in a somewhat coherent way?

Let’s do this.

The finished product looks like this (full text below in case you can’t read it):

I picture a vast ocean at night, surrounding a boy like broken glass.  There, as salt breezes fly, I am home.

But champagne secrets devour me, and my heart is poisoned by their almost brilliant perfume.  Fools explore those moist fevers.  I embrace young worry and celebrate animal laughs.

Only she could wake me and open my naked wild trust.  A woman has never said all of her magic, but girls present smiles to dazzle angels.  Man will ask how and look in the green eyes of his sister not for peace, but for more concrete vision.

Warm coffee, cool marble, smoke from red fire, and joy on an ape.

I show this poetry to a prisoner in corduroy.  He is desiring candy at morning, good dark cake, breath of sky, soft velvet.  Old fathers need that slow time circle.  No son would like a ferocious feline bleeding wet cat self.  Women are sad after men fish about, or drink like crap bugs.

With her though, my voice is delicious, blazing steely blue, sailing away as if on hot air with God.  It always steamed from some cloud where our universe danced.  She blushes when we linger in a caramel kiss, so it must be this sacred window of porcelain eternity.

Flowery dirt down here to heat.  It is healing your melted soul.  Remember to bring them life which can make her ghost liquid color over me.

We may have born an ice cold child who is harder than salt.  I go put pie up long grass.  You listen and work starless day.  Two do come lie, use the dog tree, see one lip, give word, do live.

You were nothing, then they let belly hole throb.  The sex art was for him, yet not.

Yes deer, the cup did it.  Lylye are out.
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Okay, I cheated a little with spelling and may have made up whatever or whoever Lylye is, but not too bad, right?