Saturday, May 11, 2013

Little is Known of Mongolia

A piano remained when everybody died. The piano was named Karl as a spoof on frequency. Its tone provoked a resonance, and everyone talked with verbs, nouns and the like. The nation's imagination threw a bolt of what is your favourite flavour into the air of chance. We decided we were coloured transistors from the planet Diagram. North is a point to discuss, as is South. The piano we remember was a spot in a sentence. The sentence meant to provide an action, and colour it with adjectives. No one expected the piano to remain aloof: It was friday, the living was fine. While the program constitutes a nation, we stop mid sentence. There could be a change, like spirit in a desk.

We're told so many things. The spectacle requires a mask.

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