Long Knife, that was an answer. Ragged hurt, folded over the years on British something in the newest something.
World releases present to past, past equals future. Thru the harshness fighting down fit, war is a principle, principle is a weight, weight is a presence, and so on. One controls in the years and falls with the present severing, a viable alternative to alternatives. Clark who died, brother to other the Clark who wandered out there. Fish of the world angle slings word of the edge aloft.
The pinnacle of the declared area of concern, with radiation of ideas and control, speeds into a future of jitter curve, a time of prepared reading. This history that invokes the past piled into allotments determines a future of sparks and funnel.
Poetry regards the simple death of George Rogers Clark. Poetry extends the dilating to William, whose book collects the best misspellings. Lewis dies, by a hand that might be his, or an age of indefinite pronouns called to task. Hamilton held Fort Detroit, as your book will say. The twisting is consistent, we have our ways. A poem is not historical, it is too busy with sudden space. Space is the name of country, and the time that it takes. Daniel Boone goes across the country, adverting a process of claim that we all seem to support.
Names hide the unnamed. Adventure is a call to boundary, with a few distinctions indicative of breadth. That is where we begin.