Pitching.  Would be warming up the battah, battah, battah but that's a boy job ever since that stadium wall was laid down and we had an impromptu skating party.  The weather had been that cold.

  "A perfect ten," the emotion checker Okayed our mood.  Couldn't tell if the wink was for those cheerleaders or the prouding loved ones, but we can really gather our composure when we've lost the dead weight of excess clothing and other formalities.

  Finally the Montreal suitcase floated like a spiraling feather on a chain pen, holy helps and special graces windspeed.  We were off again, a contemporary regular's work day.

  In opposition "to the wording" "at this time" of wees in the know about 

  "Here it is.  It's called Of Cabbages and Kings

     Love the children

  And the poEtry reminded us tweedy types of delicious aromas, fooood the robots' arms led the blankets to the can opening stations.  "Eat quick," Dad gave a thumb's up on work having enough ink left.  A rollerskater stole my hot meal and an old fashioned nunhat like a kite reprimanded.

  Shovel slowly so their template for the Architectural drawings doesn't burn up like these covered in snake oil.

  As those Towers burst black pope smoke through the air, we knew who'd done this to US.