Monday, November 22, 2010

Professor Radiant

No person remains. A carriage with two horses, along a dirt road, with trees. Trees vary.

Professor Radiant holds an idea. See the chalkboard, the numbers, the diagrams. One sentence leads to another, each manufacturing an idea. Ideas lose words. Words float freely and not too soon. Professor Radiant remains with vacuum tubes.

Fast mobile phone networks resemble children. Children moil. A variety of political units cuddle on doorways, crusted with rime, molting with time fled impediments.

Tracking of meaning concerns the Professor, radiance like snow. A high albedo means something at times. At times, spring frees the word for something we think. At times, fall is sport enough.

Professor Radiant charged the Victorian era, as much as to say carriages carry ideas between regions. Horses are dogs.

A tree is almost enough time, for now. This story of Professor Radiant is the day JFK died.

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