Tuesday, October 4, 2011

It Wasn’t Your Choice

The running sky poised history on a drop of rain. This infinite particle prompted a delicate kernel of corn to receive, thru lofting visions. Autumn in New England includes corn, pumpkins, apples, and craning. Skateboards make assuring noise as sunlight crowds the vagaries. Time vanishes. John Adams listens to Abigail, in a time whirl scattering dicta. Days become more days, and the Constitution is writ. We wondered what the meaning of the day could be, when Federalist met the local domain. Nobody dried as the rain began to fall. Empathy sorts the people. Will we curve in the history of some flat practical land, or will we satisfy desperate ignorance with a trace of prominence? The scud of clouds includes a moving time. Look at the film. Children have been lost, frittered to resistance. This seems like Monday. A balcony promotes a king, but look. The tea party blamed the workers slyly. You know where your government leaks. Sputter language, when you can. It seems less than likely that a beer will follow the opening of words. People rent their time to off chance and askance. Do you remember that the Boston Massacre advertised? Do you remember that football includes time? Do you remember the bus tolling its variety by acceleration? This is the palace of ridiculous. Its force delegates frenzy to the sad solon panzer. Rommel died dead because we love Hitler thru till. It was too much to make poetry, again.

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