the hairnet caught us on a cough and so the ensuing rattles (engulfing swatches of color bland frequencies) left hefting to a mulch laid prosperous by tiny autumn opera stores, candied in a bosch-like brim made ready handled for a counting lesson in three fourteenths, a signature saber for sires cutting heath and wares, chiding like paired-off kobolds, the likelihood arrangement measured rightly-ho, and netted pubes grabbing the "we" on a slough with many further adventures in irritating whispers (consuming plaid blankets of ugly beige spectra) out-the-door hauling this compost leveling wealth from a minute early fall onset of gargantuan-throated mom & pop branding, glazed with a mid sixteenth century layer of algae, handily on alert for mathematics in wearisome cadences, a name scripted poorly, wielding sword for uncles chopping marsh grass and complaining along the lines of some hastily married couple o' troglodyte typing eros, an approximation left-leaning garden tool, gross income in genital airs snagging us with ample journeys to come