Simple Theories

Disproportionate Numbers

2011-12-11T21:23:00.001-05:00

1. Filter product description to your impact lodge. 2. Explain the quavering within the document. 3. As sun rises with rough honking, reflect upon the managed money there, in the extent of a preening horizon factor. 4. Plan on desperate snarling that will have a fancy flower requiem, with profits up. 5. Since the impact lodge has become driven, deliver fret to homage. 6. Tax questions realize umbrage so start your tactic. 7. Defenestrate any TV schedule that cools in the morning for later divination. 8. Trim union while explaining the benefits of loss practices at flex time ratio. Each time a sentence ends, an angel rings a bell.

Probably So

2011-12-03T12:29:00.001-05:00

“He’s

throwing his bullet wounds at us,”

said George Harrison. Could

you do the same, Absolute Reader?

Turning verbs to use nouns in the picture, and the end zone falters with completion. The idea in life makes a great prop. Charity cannot exist, but new Red Sox manager Bobby Valentine period. We must discuss the efforts of those counted for more than one. And

God said, “I will provide a train station.”

The World Map

2011-11-26T09:48:00.001-05:00


To the North, people
	Who worship dishwashers;
To the South, people
	Who eat earrings and spatulas;
To the East, people descended
	From ornamental cabbage;
To the West, the
	Vast ocean: spittle
	From a past age

Adam Sandler Has Totally Lost It. Okay?

2011-11-14T18:05:00.001-05:00

The greatest popular person in the world died today. Repeat: this person was young, with exceptionally pleasant features forced of radial tires.

Each star in the empyrean sighed for lack of this locus of popularity. Humdrum took on new meaning, but meaning did not.

Meaning is a wave of popularity toward the sigh of exceptional stars. These stars are good-looking reminders of all that is possible, tho distant from any address. Tears flowed to the heart of the Milky Way, because the popular person stood tall and well-dressed, like sentimental eagles drinking Bud Light while evoking timeless mythic pediments.

The greatest of popular signs grew milky with waves of stars over easy oceans of just plain folk stalking the best. We remain ardent, tho the popular person can no longer contribute. We have to look in magazines again, for the source and severing. Levers used for leverage feel average.

Again the popular trout, the popular doorknob, the popular brand of sweetened, flavoured, frozen water, again they all combine in the tall and timeless person who died popular. I like in Penn State forever, said Joe Paterno, underlined carefully.

Effectively, I Write the Next Thing

2011-11-05T00:00:00.001-04:00

I have no time for tractors, says the melting ice of persona. Pansies insist on springtime, but time marches with elephants. There, an elephant full of referent. The quality of articles of confederation seizes one (singularly). What is a constitution, by the way, any way? Asserted some colour beyond the aroma pouf noise? Magna Carats contain many words. Children signify advance, despite how stupid they are. Children of King John laid a trap, and the clinging advanced into greatness as brother Richard swept the field of stray life. He bought a mobile home. It was called capture. It rolled into a future full of crab cakes. Crab cakes = starfish: invasion-prone.

Are you a telephone anymore, royal exertion?

The next paragraph becomes a stanza, and writing says poetry. You who read must die, trying.

Occupy Provincetown, The End of Massachusetts

2011-10-16T17:36:00.001-04:00

A prompting tower in the distance, remembers the sea. The sea itself, itself. Braveheart, in the classic visible zone, savours the moment, applied to swaying. Pilgrim Monument, swaying moment. The wind above the sand of Cape Cod invents a town called Provincetown. Angry Scots sever English heads free. Pilgrims stop a moment, deciding to begin. Pilgrims require artifice, obviously. Sentences require verb. Verbs without nouns stop short of a picture. Remember that the tower in Provincetown stands as high as you thought. It stands on a hill, add that figure. It requires memory to see the tower; monuments live outside. Time is a function demonstrating the passage of time. We never stop, even when Braveheart cries freedom, or dead Englishman. Ben Franklin killed George III, it was not pretty. He cried freedom, pretty, but avail. Time has frozen in the time taken to say FREEDOM. People await. A sentence begins with a capital letter. The world begins anew. Provincetown begins with Braveheart slaying tyranny. You remember the rhythm of saying so. You occupied your mind, again.

Respect the Owners

2011-10-07T05:48:00.001-04:00

In the past, a future existed. Its terms firmed around old things. New things brought taste. Taste steers ships. Ships even out, making news when they are terrific. These status reports prepare us for intervals of success. Death makes a nice boundary, after which bookstand information blends into a bison that influences the past. Finally a bison on a hillside, or the rumble of many. This advantage of need, it curves the world to self-satisfied distinction.

The Practical Citadel, Please Come See Me

2011-10-07T05:47:00.001-04:00

True Thomas the Rhymer, amidst violin plea, feels the time. Edges belong to interest. Steve Jobs in life writ letters of commerce, in cattle runs of categories. We were well suited, no kidding. We read the vindication. They saw neither sun nor moon, but heard the roaring of the sea. Violin is a playground. Do you see yon narrow narrow road, the road to righteousness? We’ve been Palin in the field. The carnal equivalent to righteousness is ______: words, factions, barter, stemming from. Come along with me, general attitude, field days as spells of vibrancy within the logic of a growing concern. The dead in Afghanistan sustain the truth of being dead. Class function data base.

King John Made England and Ireland

2011-10-04T07:01:00.001-04:00

It was a time to delapidate. Rental of fobs had plummeted. Official tweaking began in the night, when readers of Wordsworth were relishing the final stanza. Page 703, they found, included more than could have been expected.

This vice grip, then, promulgates a new Wall Street. It had to, we were ready to party. Experts in reality shows have seen an uptrend in diligent self-reference, added to a nearness to crowds. People do not talk so much about orangeade now, as if change we always good.

Extra fobs were discovered in strange places, and this economic godsend helped implement a resurgence of wide suspenders. The striped tie, too, saw expansion to new markets, such as trees. Trees have always been big in suspense, and it is fun to see the transience of their endless lives.

Page 704 of this Wordsworth collection predicted settlement of an unnatural colour. Hunger remains its own species. The drama of delineating the last appeal while underlining the best potshots in the Constitution seems to expand with the dynamic colours of fall. Recovery will equip us all with patents and credulousness.

Wordsworth saw the French Revolution as a single startled colour, then insisted grey majesty. Can you blame him. We try to explain to a rock, it doesn't happen.

It Wasn’t Your Choice

2011-10-04T06:26:00.001-04:00

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.

Mein Kampf is Bigger than Yours

2011-09-14T20:10:00.001-04:00

The doctor rounded the corner, saw a patient. This is my lucky day, said the doctor. America is light with fulcrums and remedially reading. Ducks call off the attack while swans swing to the rhythm of the water upon which they float. Today is a desperate practicum, said one doctor, with the appropriate dictionary reference highlighted. The others agreed. We write a tendency, said the lead doctor. Other doctors joined in, temperately contained and radiating from certain facts. If this were my government, mused one doctor, and left the comment unfinished. A sudden call from Insurance Company, night time again,

Question Air

2011-09-10T00:32:00.001-04:00

This world war you were talking about, did it really contain Nazis? Were feet bigger then, stepping into the stadium and stressing abstruse mental regimen for the people rather than perfectly obvious? Were Nazis ecstatic as they rounded the corner into Poland? Were the woods alive with the glamourous meeting of Russian and German Armies? When the colourful line on the map declaring partition of Vietnam became a real wall and exclusion, did we just dream the interplay of political entities?Was President Johnson ascendant at any time? Did the clouds over the popular vote entail each voter? Were lives like ours possible then? Can we live our lives now? Was resistance the same laughing matter as Sarah Palin? Can we consult someone in authority. Who is so colourful as to ignore autumn? What's the meaning of meaning, when we are looking at maps?Are the people the people? Can we share the same planet? Have we authority? Is the ground cold as death? Was the napalm an excuse for a deflowered state of mind? What chant includes our articles of confederation?

The wind is in the words in the trees.

Crazy Train Incorporated

2011-09-04T11:54:00.001-04:00

The planet’s fight rolls like weather. When we see weather in the clouds, we loop into the fence of clouds itself. Lowell’s disappointment with class distinctions follows. Tournaments are for countless stories. Boys and girls collapse in those verbs affecting nouns.

Summer will end in a flash of Republicans in stern vest catching fire. This is a Youtube moment. The Kardashian Mysteries mean stonemasons have attached history to the horizon of Kimberly, Kourtney, and Khloe, at the price of agitation. Your fashion style awaits.

Summer will end and Ozzy Osborne will frag. The drummer becomes a passé campus.

Questions stick on actions. Deep Purple versus Pink Floyd: which one brings crusts of bread? I tell you in deep rasp that pittance means much to the pittance-less. Edmund Burke stands up to say, stand down. No wait, he was William Pitt, and he said, move sideways. He had no lead guitarist.

With Duane Allman, a real and dead lead guitarist, stunning makes. His was a 27 for years, a quick call, and then a day of Robert Johnson dying posts on weird walls. Days of electric trick us. Who has more agitation than electric anything? Wars of certainty complain of the people inside. We try to merge guitarists. Duane is the hemp smell and suddenly. Gone is an attitude.

Writing becomes a favour, with people in mind. Something extracts from ritual, like Cornwallis placing nay in one vital vote. Another Cornwallis, be becomes. He stretched from the original find a defeat of concept, with provocation ploughed under the urgent machine.

Kim sips orange juice while Khloe sips tea. Kourtney is the one who isn’t Kim or Khloe. Each sister has two eyeballs, and one sight. We’d like to lead you, stray, they say.

Homer Does Not Supply Our Only Version

2011-09-03T12:16:00.001-04:00

Soft fronds in the dire dirt, logging traces in the body. Soup passes misery for the school of aching. Politics slips posse into possession. Extended version of the same thing goes all directional. You heard the clip clop of hooves, pictured everything in the basic nothing. So did I. The guitarist on the stage relies on a mirror into which every spirited retort can be redounded. This is a specious sport. Activists have hardened. The neutral basis of caring surmounts intent. Those rats scurrying have their dinner to attend. Weeks and postures go by, serious in the din. When we leave this flood zone, we expect a better place. After midnight, we're gonna chug-a-lug and shout. In minutes, hours will go by, then days, then history itself into blank places formed by assertion. The body of the words is dead, but that does not make them any less said.

Simple History

2011-08-14T16:54:00.001-04:00

Called Crispus Attucks office on Sunday and was told by Edmund Burke that Sam Adams, beermaker and rabble rouser, and John Adams, Esq. and Sam Adams, beermaker and rabble rouser, would look at the tax problem and stains today.

Called today and spoke with Sam Adams, beermaker and rabble rouser, and John Adams, Esq. Edmund Burke said that someone would be over Tuesday. JOSEPH WARREN wanted to be sure that this was an inspection, and not just cosmetic cleaning. JOSEPH WARREN wants the rug lifted and inspected because we are all complaining of symptoms from tax problem. Sam Adams, beermaker and rabble rouser, and John Adams, Esq. was on a conference call. Later, she was gone.

Paul Revere received a call from Sam Adams, beermaker and rabble rouser, and John Adams, Esq. saying an inspection would happen tomorrow. It does not sound like they want to address the tax problem, just the rug stain.

A Devastating New Unthinkable Target

2011-08-14T16:52:00.001-04:00

\begin document

\begin header

\text class article

\use default options true

\language English

\input encoding auto

\font roman default

\font sans default

\font typewriter default

\font default family default

\fonts false

\graphics default

\paper font size default

\paper size default

\use geometry false

\cite engine basic

\use bib topic false

\paper orientation portrait

\paragraph separation indent

\deerskin med skip

\quotes language English

\paper columns 1

\paper sides 1

\paper page style default

\tracking changes false

\output changes false

\author ""

\end header

\begin body

\begin layout Standard

\backslash

Document class (poem)

\end layout

\begin layout Standard

\backslash

Title (A Devastating New Unthinkable Target)

\backslash

Date (5/16/09)

\end layout

\begin layout Standard

\backslash

Begin (document)

\end layout

\begin layout Standard

\backslash

Make title

\end layout

\begin layout Standard

The last book by Dan Brown surfaced.

Not the last theory of broken integrity, just Dan Brown, with shoes in

His bag.

Hold onto that bag, Dan, now that you have written the book.

The century is new, full of books by Dan Brown.

He made a million words look like a book.

He is the essence of Tom Hanks.

The war may soon be over.

This is a novel by Dan Brown, with childish emphasis.

And then the sea rises because of Al Gore, and the facts remain insane.

This is where Dan.

We could not prove only that words come in packs, but that stories change

with listening.

Then the process accepts the poem as a sidecar in an immense factory of

visiting.

So Dan Brown grew up with exactly the right explanation.

And it came to a million words or so, who is counting, which could be captured,

Frame by frame.

And we are happy with the logistics of such spray, writing thru the day.

My friends are exceptional and go to lengths.

Their sense of Dan B

\begin inset ERT

Status open

\begin layout Plain Layout

\end layout

\end inset

Rowan includes a movie deal and 6 packs.

After a while the message is clear.

You type as fast as you think, trying to catch up with Dan Brown.

How crazy must that hominid be?

\end layout

\begin layout Standard

\backslash

End (document)

\end layout

\end body

\end document

The Initiatory Master Introduces Rock Crystals

2011-08-01T20:55:00.001-04:00

Arraignment of Steve Jobs,

Baking of Steve jobs,

Penciling in of stave jobs,

Boiling of Steve jobs,

Dotting of stave jobs,

Fulcrum of Steve jobs

Shaman at the Laundromat

2011-08-01T08:00:00.001-04:00

The exhaustive moment provides wobbly things. Blue skies were noted at certain times, with a green aura from trees of considerable standing. When it comes to detergent, any powder or thick liquid will do. The shaman grows tired with effort and embracing.

Earlier would be a shrub, proud in its distinct gravity of barrier or landscape placement. Eager as can be, with radiant sun effect causing photosynthetic response, shrub grows almost tall. Shaman can foretell rooftops, extreme clouds, and cleaning the lint filter. The shrub describes there.

Soap remains grand, with disparate smells. Socks ever test the journey. Plaid will surprise you.

Epileptic shaman rolls on Laundromat floor, howls for sky with diamonds. Like that, the sock of the moment transfigures. And we are serious

going to lengths about the middle of the road. Too many pieces of the puzzle fell to the floor. Rendered as exasperation then made into resolve, so the puzzle creates a dynamic time which becomes constancy for moments at a time.

Still, when the washer stops dramatically, the shaman’s perch always shakes. Moderate and careless drier continues to hum. Perception is in the eye of the percept, or when will likely stories remain the same?

Shaman with well-folded and springtime freshness.

Competition in Magical Performances

2011-08-01T07:59:00.001-04:00

Baudelaire sits on a rooftop and names a cloud Chantez. So organized, the brisk tonnage of water vapour performs a momentary interruption of quiet. Baudelaire shows his teeth, calls it a smile.

Rimbaud dumps recalcitrant letters in blue ink on whitish paper. His skill becomes a deadly verbal puttering among locus, colours, showdown, and strait. We laughed at inception, but then we stuttered.

Verlaine’s laughable mansard roof barely covers the locution. Can you be more specific or spoiled, Sir? Your tax rate is only special for a moment.

Everything French has been done.

Lorine Niedecker took hold of the boy. Torque. Celia was often Louis, Louis was Paul. Clouds as big as explaining doddered to an afternoon. The stagnant lake learns to burp.

Personal History

2011-07-31T13:46:00.001-04:00

Dear Ape in the Beginning,

I found the flower you spoke of. It sits in the kitchen like three paths into a busy forest. Each track remains bent by the last senator to give adman preference to the total askance. The senator’s version will remain “tickled”.

Before we could clean up the reverie, a fearsome wave of no chance bucked over the horizon. It left us politically coarse, with a bridge to callow. Congressional haircuts moved a-pace. The scene shifts as do the senators. Congressional reps fall for poison.

Were you planning to leave on a junket to hotspots early this morn or were you spotting the effort of sunrise nowadays? Moon sightings have been vague and unending. Blame the handicapped marsh. I have to know three things by midday, and the clock is running.

If you ever leave the beginning, could you give me a call. My number is a lot like 7, but I cannot slice the data further.

Meanwhile, I verge on greatness, tho with coffee stains on my papers. Everything otherwise looks proper for association. Please reply stat.

Best regards like awesome,

Allen

One Obvious Plea

2011-06-20T20:55:00.001-04:00

Jostled

Orc stutters with act of food group. Parsimonious human populace obliged to practice fetching. Orc bothers to submerge, brood in underwater, feed not eat, and then intelligent, almost. Human on land becomes a miser, in sunshine upon rightness. Half play of politics means a city that has a flattened surface. Degrees mean something in the heft of hierarchy, to the point that the point becomes invasive. Orc is killer, notably and in books, on the wide-ranging seas and farrago. Left to chance, a text becomes opinion where one lives. Human endeavour works for manufacture. Government works for stands upon which the sight of the later day can be seen by some. Orc holds breath, human does not.

Tenderly

Bach’s full throat, by which means plenty in the dilation, sorts thru hampers full of noting. Cares alive. No trace of organism resides in the expansion promulgated by a little bit banging ignition into beyond our minds. Something written down somehow becomes exacting. How does spaceship Orc retain its rights when harbouring Human cannot refrain from the still life of Glenn Beck? Cheers were made to flow backwards.

Discover

Every Republican is a hamster. As a reward for enjoying the cage, the cage treats the hamster like the swish of sweet fire in forest outposts known for iniquity. The Democrat, by way of margin, includes semi hemi demi quaver refrain, tiny towards the centre until filled with the same rebuke that rebuked water’s wetness. Fire claims fire as a natural range of fire. Thus and in stilted language, Republican argues Democrat in vice versa. Otherwise, friends, the chance might happen. Did one say every Democrat is a hamster, or a universe on its own grows long?

Partner

Baby Spice is 900 years old. She is crusades in and of herself. Scary Spice growls terrible stockyards, and your church called. Ginger Spice documents clerical errors with clandestine ripening, and/or gossip. Sporty Spice simply debriefs. Posh Spice is exactly what’s left, reducing Sarah Palin Spice to elbows, John Kerry Spice to blanched green beans, and both retain armament till the end of the Afghan war. Just kidding, Human Spice, we will never part.

The Poem Became So Popular and He Became So Close

2011-06-12T21:29:00.001-04:00

Sometimes, in plain English. warloads with throats cut nicely. The lead dragon ship worshipped the appropriate blood. Then, positron factions of Afghanistan stood on tom toms and danced cadence to blow up. Ambitious!

Forces want to blow up. In this sentence, Oasis appears as a provocation of that day when the beginning of an endless song ridiculed the option of MTV. We were rivals of animate,

In the late aptitude, guns flying thru forests of rebate (tax sitch); made belligerents seize a faulty tour bus. Memories were fazed.

Justice stuck caulked diodes to rummy tour guides. Fustian replied to Sarah Palin with envelopes. We soon were soup.

Nonce words create a carpet on which plopping sounds could be recorded. This was a distant planet, crusty like the Palin brain. It could have been us.

English returned to normal, with carriages churning out more duped amazement. We have been brunt for years of tired immigrants.

Chalk makes dust on the board, chalk equals words. The words remodel the expressive Palin. Dimes are just as cheap.

Liz – I'm Unsure Whether or Not You Can Find That Particular

2011-06-12T20:45:00.001-04:00

SOMETIMES, WHEN I'M NOT BEING USED,

I LIKE TO GO TO MY HAPPY PLACE.

That’s not enough to make you decide that your 90-minute commute really isn't so.

After doing the research and walking through the deceptive Easter Friday

which is still your Thursday, I'm happy to interpret the geeks.

At first glance, they are not the most endearing animals,

please do not include any contact information.

The best way to contact me is through the comment form.

(Al, your blog posts were really interesting, thank you.)

They are not treated as pets at all, they don't even name the birds.

I'm gonna end up working in a lumber yard for the rest of my life.

Brian, I haven't done this, yet, but my research tells me it's doable.

I saw that you had a religion blog, grab the button for yourself.

I'm very happy with my new hunting rifle.

Dreck for Wine

2011-06-08T21:23:00.001-04:00

If you divide minty freshness by 12 inert poems, you have to ask why. When you season talk of mending fences with stunned walls and Joseph Massey in Arcata, you reel from pressure overheard by gulls. Gulls represent stations.

In the miasma construed from noonday muttering, you get to include dour in your faceoff. Vocabulary includes what we don’t say, Dr.

Later than noon inquest strops a razor but if cone, the function of twist in space, is emblem on a target field, simple words concrete.

Nothing dabbles as likely as 9:16 pm. Whose talking. Whose.

If You Can’t Stand Waiting Any Longer

2011-06-08T21:12:00.001-04:00

The trundle bed arrives [post haste. Lickerish beatitudes form certain clang on borscht, culled from leaves of early drays. Marvels scud like pistons fed with welkin. We are not blind.

The dressage of spate matters likely days for instance. The temperature is a keen 12 cents above zero, modicum time. We are prepared to bear our wheatgrass, your villains cooled by contraries.

The onus remembers the topography inherent in relaxing across the street from the bathtub. Peerage equals haystack, tho Monet dived by zero. We all should flock to the throng named nebula. It has askance.

Scorching fits scotch as a daybed. Then is a worm full of apples. When the great apples of youth, called empire, release their proxy, midsummer sits on a weasel. We are the usual case. Brahms was a benefit.

Arguable horizon sends steeds of bumptious pragmatism to the foot of My Monadnock. William James is at the door. The door itself is a carriage. The carriage employs varied roots. Summer contains the lot.

Trying to Save the Television

2011-06-01T20:27:00.001-04:00

When you are with me, rains are pencils, and that’s didactic. Tornados mark classes. We arrange the flexing toward alone yet quake of the certain lost measure. It’s a mountain, that stepway large and holding sky ideas. We are carried centers, clusters, cooling matter in the forest throng. There will be a day, because all days have that measure. No one consumes the rational path but bends and wiggles mild and proper expulsion from the card of garden. Names made terrific for the crusty season, spent on tours thru clutter, spoke, and rumour idol. This is the bond, tho more arises, skies arise, the tornado seems like Harvey, the rabbit of Jimmy Stewart. Hello, and smackerel, this chance of time in year. We were ready for this. We ride to ready this.

They Said it on the Show Last Night

2011-05-21T17:00:00.001-04:00

High rapture provides increased opportunities to mate with high rapture partners. This increases distant survival potential and social contributions of your other children distant same age. Distant child is said to have short rapture achieved level status. Rapture is an agile business evidence of rapture reduction in studies since 1984. Scott Lang distant second Ant-Man attracted to teammate Iron Lad (Nathaniel Richards), who soon left distant group, adopted distant codename "Rapture" and assisted distant Young Avengers against proportionate short rapture conditions. Distant Rapture of Anton Chekhov occupies relatively a central position in distant anthropometric research estimation of rapture of and individual from distant amputated Rapture of Things in Russian Thought. Distant focus of my work involved distant prediction of adult (age 18) rapture in children. What is distant rapture of limitations for felonies in Michigan? They don't have distant rapture to do it.

Your Monitoring Alerts Helped Me

2011-05-11T20:40:00.000-04:00

The days carry roseate hue, a full program, and a pond feted by willows. In the resultant dream, a carriage clatters to a halt. Beams of central characters stalk the moment once the horses stop. A wrench of fever pitch turns into Fu Manchu. We have been betting on allies.

The damp wind circulates in the same world as you and me. We are readers and writers of timely effect. A downturn in economy prefigures an upturn in galactic envy. Everything gets to go away but we stand here.

Season freshens with idyllic rivers. Willows fray the water with droop. Starlings bother to gather. Blue jays quake a feverish. Once a mourning dove did not flee immediately.

A poem in all this is a poem, in all this. No adjustments needed, just a spray of the latest air, rain from a virid forest, and cheap talk from a mountain. Political groups have no character.

Now the march toward a victim of the last emphasis. We might listen, the river might flood.

Slap a Label on It

2011-05-04T20:17:00.001-04:00

The wind of the final continent blows open the porch door. The oddity of porches suffices in ventricle pause. A gust up the highpoint of spring, then honest flood scope from newly revived river gods fits the inherited process. Goddesses align with non-goddesses in politic credence. We are talking about so many things at once.

The final continent scored a big one, which made a great lesson for the 3^rd graders trapped in conditional response. The 4^th graders felt shirty. 5^th graders were almost rare in the gleam of their imposed glister. 6^th graders traded a point on the map for a numeral in the appropriate column.

7^th, 8^th, and 9^th grade are exactly the same. Bring on the taxidermists!

10^th grade means minimalist. 11^th grade consoles the plaque left by the class of never after. 12^th grade becomes the final porch before the final continent. And

so you were saying that the excellent death of the roused ingrate constitutes a plorable fence for further non-discussion. And the corpse sent packed and packing, looming among fishes of all order, sensitizes the minimum to the grandeur of max out.

Plumes are for the birds.

Initial consonants prepare the word for the endorsement of sound. Each language stops when iota is done.

Voice Was Detected Regularly

2011-05-03T20:14:00.001-04:00

We made a doorknob out of a princess once, illuminating a specious precious sentence bespoke by authority. Yes, Bin Laden, the wellstone of numerical response systems, died the death of orange colours filtering thru the virid empathy of oak leaves. In these days of adding substance to non-substance for the sake of newscasts and angular movement, the subtle backstroke of offering solemn assassination to the wholesome gods of retributive net fund fulminates in dire adjectives applied to homely nouns. Vestiges rally into a picture that could be complete, in the same way that a river can.

Think of the difference one could make if one did not add up.

Think of the relief of mansions in the Arcady of affirmation.

Think of essence as the beginning of a long line of thinking.

When thinking is done, a sentence finishes. One sentence suffices as idea. Several ideas fill a paragraph. The real statement needs an offered structure and aloof. Osama Bin Laden is dead, in the sea, crammed into martyr, piled high with able extant, mildly freighted in terms of buoyancy, stilled by human life, spread thru human life, caulked in the main of human life.

Death follows locally. The princess of the early doorknob shows the assurance of use. Thus martyrs, heroes, and the athlete beyond. Awe car in the day, and the networked night. We have trammels to untrammel, liberty to assail, and ports of call calling.

2011-04-27T19:24:00.001-04:00

Obey Fu Manchu or every living thing will die.

This is the settlement.

There were people here, before the first people.

Certainly the vista proposed an assertion.

Magnetism, a breed of magic.

They sailed salubrity, in an effort to sustain civilization.

The Stamp Act meant so much.

History produces a pile.

Sentences fit paragraphs, oftentimes.

The center of a word is its meaning?

The center of a paragraph is its meaning.

Many words mean paragraphs.

Fu Manchu was a production.

Sax Rohmer was a production.

I Do Not Want to be a Hobbler, Dr Haddock

2011-04-23T21:25:00.001-04:00

(A Concord Mass)

The bridge over the raging Concord River startles thoughts into secular bomb bays. When the British in final et cetera, rushed into the history cloistered by a single book, the graveyard and burying grounds of town grew morbid. Much present tense remains but the past situates in the inner daffodil bulb. No one speaks English, exactly. They die on hills, and remain buried, more or less. The less part includes free parking at certain highly-regarded places. This is an excuse for love or grandeur, which means Hessians running back to Boston’s safety under fire were written quite nicely. The season is poetics.

2) Pouring rain comes consummate cause, and the rush of a very fine river. Willow trees grow on you, which makes you what? Lurk is a better pronoun for most people.

3) The topic sentence belongs somewhere where it will be noticed.

4) Bomb bays fill with bombs, lush blooming ones, Vietnam ready and quite, quite, as loose as quite the thing.

5) They talk of liberty, and purpose, and big yellow house. And towns with fenders, and feather beds, dire feather beds. And sponsoring of rare people, slavery right out, one god for all right in, dinner in the spare air of freedom. They talk that talk, near the place where Concord’s grape grew, near where grape juice betrayed the need for no grape juice. The British were insular, the colonists continental. They stood on the ridge with the gravestones finely tuned, and surveyed the possibility of skirmishing the locals.

6) If you could have any grammar, what would it be?

7) Yes padre the British said, with the last cigarette in hand.

8) This history is expressly popular, for the people standing on the burying ground.

9) The Catholic Church on the green has been replaced by a door.

Voodoo Chile

2011-04-20T20:04:00.001-04:00

Yet, the group consisted of bro

Solo career in the '70s. Older brothers George Viral Osmond, Jr. (Viral) and were born deaf and “did nothing, ever." From 1971 to

solo hits, has led many to assume he was the group's lead. But 1976, he had 12 top-40 hits, including 5 in the top 10.

Donny's popularity, and his numerous Osmond, Marie Osmond, and Jimmy Osmond—plus Donny and Marie had begun recording duets and had hits

And producing for 5 technically separate artists: The Osmond’s Merrill was the lead singer and

By now the family was touring, recording, creating, and producing for 5 technically separate artists: The Osmond’s, Donny 1976, he had 12 top-40 hits,

Odes assume he was the group's lead. But Merrill was the lead singer and vow from 1971 to

, Donny Osmond, Marie Osmond, and Jimmy Osmond—plus Donny and Marie had begun recording duets with "I'm Leaving It Up to You" and "Morning Side of the Mountain". Through all the stress and pressures created by these many efforts, the family hung together ice of the

Osmond’s. Donny's emergence as a solo star, and the recuing lading 5 in

As a solo star, and the record-company's desire to appeal to the teen-girl audience, often thrust Donny out in front of the group.

By now the family was touring, recording; appeal to the teen-girl audience, often thrust Donny out in front of the Faith and career. In that other form, the top 10 numerous solo hits, has led many trod-company's desire to

Created by these many efforts, the family hung together. "Inside the Osmond’s" depicts the family mottoes as being "It careers of Donny and Osmond’s. Donny's emergence red."^[2]

And hits with "I'm Leaving It up to you" and "Morning Side of the Mountain" Through all the stress and pressures creating,

. "Inside the Osmond’s" being "It doesn't matter who's out front, as long as it's an Osmond" and "Family, nod voice as Use of the Marie, the success of the show, and the operation of the his numerous solo hits, has led many to assume he was the group's doesn't matter who's out front, as long as mind" and "Family, faith, and career. In that order."

To originally per although they

Look Over Yonder

2011-04-20T19:35:00.001-04:00

You wren cocked when The Byres fluted 8 Miles High. An easy disaster, telling shift from not shift, all spun. Jimi Hendrix visitation and collapse, dead pool for Jimmy Page. Buffets cannot preclude the urgency of les fleurs, tamper with tree tips. Twelve strings of a gesture guitar, a backwards merriment with David Crosby set to slop over, the quick and easy way to learn. Raga got together. John Lennon shot a mimic in Central Park, history, plastic things, a blot on the ‘scutcheon. “Your lions are fighting with chairs.”

Learn More About Matt and Jessica

2011-04-16T18:36:00.001-04:00

Hobos relinquish as ditches. Times change, bears die offensively, and ditches remain. The human potentate decrees that time slices things. Not for us even, but news of Republicans. A course of action settles the ditch. The ditch frequents surveys of pain, but does not count. We are poured into tight situations, the special concrete of our vision, and peddle biological remorse. As homeless as a door folded into coinciding planes until the offering of one sluggish being seems enough for the taxable porch. Speed endures, ponds space out, books dilate, frogs frequent maps, and hobos dock in the dark while raining scores rock. Indent your every paragraph, in the proud excuse for position.

Death Constitutes a Rejection

2011-04-09T12:10:00.001-04:00

This morning, the legs of Jimmy Page lift three inches into the air. The air itself reminds us that water left our tears alone. Seas became a virtue of cessation, if we were so lucky. Cessation is the spot-on word for what Fu Manchu in his novelistic approach sought for perchance.

Jimmy Page now delivers a proper escalator to the next floor. This is the definition of some year on record. People were people back then, not memories or assertions. The Mamas and the Papas were invited to be terrific. They were rented, but the imprint remained. We will have to ask later, when later arrives.

Hours later, in monstrance, the scope assumes that Jimmy Page must have risen 2 more inches. Five inches of certifiable altitude in a world that denies the nearest mountain. Jimmy Page scoffs at alliteration, he can make any noise possible.

Hijackers felt distraught (historical note) at the ambiguous idea of liberty. Does that mean chocolate sauce? And how much exactly, prosecutor of exactly this very? The Mamas and the Papas sing “Monday Monday”, although they are dead.

When you were dead, did you love the 90s? Kurt Copay lost the adjustment and it was unhappy. Madonna of the 80s hung in there, 3 points and versatile entanglement. She has aspirated her name and exact longitude sans latitude. We need room for quibble. The group assigns. We love you, M, and the segment of the century you held dear.

Relating to Jim Morrison’s mouthful of vomit, do we have pure direction or simply a card on which someone wrote pasquinade? Bob Dylan lost a balloon named Bob Dylan Lost a Balloon. His asking price startled the left bank of waiting too long.

Jimmy Page postures guitar at knee level for the sublime off track betting of possible bag. Good, we will meet at 6 inches above sea level. Death has visited with proximate care. It’s now our turn to fulfill the ambivalent structure that leaves us in time.

Lowell or Botulism, How Does One Choose?

2011-04-04T20:49:00.001-04:00

Creation limps to see the sea. It’s a lot of trouble. Verbs work, okay, and nouns mean something solid. Then adjective colours the spaces between and around solid. Adverbs declaim the speed, tho our presidential discoveries may not know this. I heard a preposition once, going towards, I think (a tree was involved). In Lowell, Massachusetts, literary punctuation mark, and historical byway, there were attempts at language. Mainly some factories, a river, and canals. We hear these instant things, furrows of effort, and Charles Ives looks at Aaron Copland. Less saturated is the sentence, when you carefully place the period at the end. The end must be indicated because ideas are formal institutions. Like slavery, and stuttering function of the griping class. Creation begins to see paragraphs, rewards of effort. Stanzas are paragraphs, make no mistake, just as the moon circles aimlessly while clouds obscure the facts. In Lowell, steeples fulfill the promise of skyline for a while. The tenor of some rot and buildings works into dismal demonstration of economic means severed by a few human beams. Their light wasn’t little more than. Under that bridge rushes important water over stony riverbed, with eager power developed from how that mass in motion translates into the firm belief in system. Electrify me, says Lowell, staunch for the bucket filled to a brim described by our betters. Someone plugs in the refrigerator and Budweiser fills the temporary home. Meanwhile, creation limps to the sea, like a plain book or a bowl of porridge set adrift with mentioning. This casting about, with words featured in every remark (almost), constitutes a property of which we are an element.

In the Gertrude Stein of Shoes

2011-03-31T02:06:00.001-04:00

Fancy that the Concord River spreads a milling water thru the trees and now and then, increasing worthwhile shoes. The strategy of the Shawsheen embellishes small flood plains where people stiffen. Further west, remember, the Sudbury and the Assabet flirt with numbers then meet the Concord. The Concord, turned north for pleasure and empowered by the will of cycled response, finds the Merrimack and willing. The sea could be the only rejoinder.

In other ways the land stores human production and beginning. The mills of Lowell make great possible planets for aliens. Original awesome works down to abrupt stoppage, like union dues, only spoiling for fight. A folk song of three verses will contain everything needed to expel that mendicancy.

Trees start with oak, then diversify to apple. Oranges are unheard of, palms repeat blurry phrases about time. Maples testify rashly, like we care. Everything else is contained in something else.

Fox stay back, coyote feed. That porcupine you met is a skunk. That skunk you met is the neighbour’s cat. That neighbour’s cat you met is their young son Todd.

After soccer practice there is after soccer practice.

Event Horizon x Dream Songs = Flume

2011-03-31T01:48:00.001-04:00

In these days of buckets, victims of haze process religion and other. Dates reveal other dates, confounded by duplicates and fidget. Reasoning supplies iffy contours on the well-brewed and inviting map. Why are the positions on this map coloured orange? This is your season, taxpayer, make the rules. Then rustle of papers, or cattle, and object becomes abject. What were the times doing to the endless stream of positions remaining? Strategies and pork. Now gum on the shoes, called Libya, becomes one more new long training session. We were expecting John Berryman to rise from the floor once more.

The Reason Why

2011-03-23T20:02:00.001-04:00

Feeling definite? The family sloop, towards inhaling horizon. Testament strikes bandwidth along definitions of protocol. Moonbeams are reaction. You accepted the nature of a paragraph, once proclaimed as a neat four sentences. And a poem purchases elegiac tone in a favoured scheme of rhythm and rhyme. Then Led Zeppelin formed a pill, radiant as an ampersand. Rocks thrown on baby wish, pieces of the last guitar, nuclear fright.

History Lessens

2011-03-14T06:58:00.001-04:00

A reward in simple testament secures a veiny process. Streets fill with the essence of people. They contain the essential outrage, lightly fortified by personal view. Did they know that Hitler survives in history books? Common knowledge, like the birth of kites in paper and string heaven. Some mansion that could be! A breeze of green requirement flushes across the field awaiting sunflower seed. In time, the gall of which, real flowers will stand, like eager evidence of the next fad. Trial and error makes the new warder. Error snips alternate routes. You are my President, Mister or Ms Whosis.

Refinements Generated by Recent Advances

2011-03-13T11:29:00.001-04:00

Furthermore, this Mr. John Locke, calling into question tsunami and water generally, how people can really. We have adapted to a television, at least. A syntax of possible impulse and possible impulse in reply. Identify a period of soothing, faked up with rhetorical questions. Then the long green seizing, not particular. Only this Mr. John Locke knew, with a subject such as slavery, that a chronicle stutters evenly, a rhythm for possession. Mr. John Locke could capitalize any word he wished. Such was the Age. Now we bend, just like tectonic plates. Now we go toward seashores with nervous eying. Now we read the first sentence of a paragraph, and allude to the rest. We hold demi-tasse to be self-evident, as in paraprosdokian. We steep tea in pots as a gesture toward completion. Mr. John Locke might be keen for malmsey or sack, or the refinement of tobacco as he lifts the lid of the latest book, distant skirling providing a background. Within the chambers of the book a space of average, excepting the spectacular word. Now we march ahead, like sugar into molasses.

They Dug a Hole in the Ice

2011-03-13T06:57:00.001-04:00

John Locke, himself, was an intricate plot schemed up by name on request. Motivated slush booms notions of government and people are crying. Crying because the earth cracks and we can only stand. Crying on top of crying because thinking is a presence. Crying on Wednesday, which always always follows Tuesday. John Locke was a delible upbeat, you were waiting. We send people elsewhere then look again, there was something. John Locke was a book impeded by jerking effort, as unsatisfactory people settle where they've been pushed. Excellence is exhausting, not contagious. This has been the preface of the World.

The Term is Derived from the Middle

2011-03-12T10:10:00.001-05:00

Penchant shines bright in the hayfield where we remember space thru agitation. We see the rain in hearty plash, scoping rumoured rivers to extent. Dreams clang on simple bells, the whirled. Definitions fill in askance. Two fairly intelligent young gentlemen, one brutal and ruthless killer get great rates on home equity lines. Someone is butchering the darlings of Society, and not even Queen Victoria is the “canary in the coal mine”.

The scandal of opposition died down, and the stone-carver himself, though the town-folk continued to eye a sociologist who studies fads.

The area is so dirty that merchants report the tourists are looking into their own chaotic world of million. Lawmakers in the State House have given bipartisan blessing to a few ideas for new tax exemptions this year, despite a budget shortfall that is widely brought together by a misdelivered package. And you may laugh, because you did not do your merely this and nothing more.

Conventional wisdom has it that President Obama has visited Ohio. A creamy yogurt artisanally made scarce for young people goes without saying.

The clerk looked down his long Gallic nose bulging with job openings . If seeing ever really was a reason for believing, it surely was not in New York around 1900. Non-old Americans do not typically believe in euthanasia for advertisers on the state of their budgets.

A great many would agree with Pudd'nhead Wilson: settle any wage garnishment quickly to avoid it crimping in the middle of reading Self-Reliance. The Indonesian government seems to be a bit nervous about Broadway musicals and rainy days. Running in circles is the easiest way to lose track of a hopeless fangirl for Kuroshitsuji and Supernatural.

There Were Others, Of Course

2011-03-12T10:09:00.001-05:00

A theater critic who was notorious for his titanically touring on a riverboat near Dandong left in a hurry. He voted eugenically. He spoke panzer divisions. He sorted his crack pipes. He loped across the veldt with his miasma. He produced nonsense in New Hampshire. He cleared the ratiocinations for further rage. He consulted the booby hatch. He broached dismal.

These are the rays of pending. Rustle of documents that declare certain frames. We vote with our wand.

Jostled snort of entertained opinion. Flapped a wing with willows bending to the water. The water sighs, alleviates and change. A flood closes zone of reach. Radiated stay back, colossally. We have no up where to go.

Feelin’ Alright

2011-03-09T21:03:00.001-05:00

There years were, and as reference, kindly for news. A light in a window one day, clouds in a day with pastures. Shiny instruments paused like roses. We were loved by the time we took. Years of ice and sooner fell in waves before us. You remember, we were kids. We were tried and true, with roses, plummy bright roses. Lights rose from ashes, baskets in a haze. You were tired, I was worse. Plumes of water rose from battered rocks in the edge of something storm. Naturally we remained. Chords on a piano remember tasks of given. Something paused like roses as the green came loose and grand. Someone plays the drums, outright,. As far as dance conditions, and we say our words, the moment rests. Not the beat, of course, but the pasture land between. Holding hands is a careful sentence. Every sentence bounds to further stated. We were kids, and such is as we stay. Piper at dawn shocks my brain. We are kids.

Monthly Access Charge

2011-02-14T20:29:00.001-05:00

Clangour as a distant reading. The verbs shift over for poems, scat. Time bounces stoat franchise, tempering peen. The furls of flags gravely garner gulf. The sea sucks, says Sammy Davis Jr, as far as alive. Millions seem dislodged in a Huffington Post agronomy. Living testament shirks strategy, gains parlance in rash schnapps. You have peered at Klondike bars, my friend, said Hosni Mubarak. We stand back, my stand in, Yeti, and me. Stark scotch optical verve loses a mayhem plan. Egyptians quarter and tie. The Red Sox simplify. So who is your engine, Reader? Believe negative franchise as a global housewarming. These equations furl, loosen loam, libate. Grass as green as paint, as memorable as paint, as purim serrano as paint. Meanwhile, Prester John the testicle. I don’t even know what Egypt looks like, affirms stray energy pulses from Star Trek starring Gary Burghoff as captain of the. Timely negation. We ran to the piddling, and the storm against all Storm Kings, the fierce reliance on adjectives, the Interstate 95 of all close encounters of the Ford Fairlane kind. My name is mouse, said Rat, standing erect in the Capitol of exactly the sentence. You knew that the British would leave New York sometime, leaving Washington a presidency that predicted Ronald Reagan. You tease me, said Gary Burghoff said Gary Burghoff said Gary Burghoff, supremely in rerun. Bagpipes skreel on a positive note, left dockside, and a cat clambers about the boardwalk.

Lumps of Plum Pudding and Pieces of Pie

2011-02-11T06:57:00.001-05:00

As egyptian president, I have been a book. I have been a library. A liquid assertion compels the age-old Nile in study, with whiffs of news called electricity. The people stand on chairs. Each chair commits a prognosis in which daisies arise in the mind’s eye, when the mind’s eye reaches Colorado. No egypt exists without president. The present is not enough. The egyptian present moves on curtailed vibrations. Like a dog in years, or a basket asking for help, the days muddle for completion. The complete egyptian president can talk. So can the many others. So can the guarding pattern of other nations. I have been egyptian president, on long walks thru hall after hall. I have spoken up for the presence of statements, of places to speak, of canvas upon which to paint, of stones to do the talking. The clock ticks conservatively. I ask for haymakers now, the will to live like molasses. Proper nouns list towards verbs. Smack can be both.

Format Paintbrush

2011-01-26T19:49:00.001-05:00

Prime numbers react to acids vented from archetype. Dream in which spelling counts, then night of long knives. Logically speaking, not so soothing, when the adding is done. They were children like reaction, attending Phish concert number 17101. The set list was hot, and every instrument in the band made sound. In fit vagary, ocean spun calculated tang for the bums in luxury. Resistance means universal health care, poured on the shores of taxation. This reveals why people stagger. Trees mean something until winter, then the wood is easy burning. So are children, in the back seat of each city. So are spellbound denting of pillows, as the head falls for slumber in an age. The guitarist of importance scratches chords from elegy. Or whatever, child in time.

The Expansion of Comatose (My Doctoral Thesis Can Enslave Yours)

2011-01-26T19:33:00.001-05:00

Mr Roper turned to Joseph Goebbels and said, Mandibles redress the carcass. A laugh and instead for Herr Goebbels, who ballooned and full moon. The matter of coffee, in the reigning time, or lack of said beverage, in the reign of time. National Socialism and Fascism share a dislike of a comfortable and pleasant life, copied Mr Roper then pasted. From here to the planet of time, where it reigns, sweats Goebbels, this being sorted out in verity. Truculence manifests in coffee shortages, of which Herr Goebbels takes note. The simplicity is as of chardonnay, or blank looks when confronted by conservative anchovies. Situations inhere because we have tasted coffee and exacted strict regulations. Slave labour was a boon, and boons are good, we note in controvertible passage, freed. A boon of free labour and the midnight shattering glass become stranding units. Mr Roper intolerates with a passion, which is just as Herr Goebbels would have it. Listen, we have to feed children, believability, said Mr Roper. He stood next to Jack Tripper and it was not simple. Simple becomes a matter of regulation, and places to go when going needs. Herr Goebbels looked for a way for usefulness. It was core simple. Few towns remained. The starving to death part was overly, couldn't you tell? The main beam stutters in time, with a branch of government. We now have Mr Roper and Jack Tripper and Herr Goebbels the moebius strip. Just this, likely as plain noise.

Post-Doctoral Feces

2011-01-26T19:31:00.001-05:00

Dragons eat panty hose. Meanwhile, drastic flab of piety inoculates the nose of Sarah Palin. Scansion of said nose props cordite for the next school bombing. Fluffy justice reading funds maze of stated union. Say you grind up Glen Beck, as foreplay. This is My Little Pony in action. Popular cases of vocabulary survive the best case scenario of Goebbels' talk. We say Crest is the best dentifrice, knowing death will do some good. We see the point in knobs. Panty hose trees bloom in spring, in time for residuals. Dragons like residuals. Residuals bond the common offer with implemented harm. Dragons are so human, with history on their side. Human is the best part of slave labour, and the guts to say ouch. Human summits a pulse of industrial urge. Granules of Glen Beck survive for seasoning. Fake plastic makes ground Glen gravid. These are tears of effort.

Hitler Nougat Funny Trees

2011-01-09T09:34:00.001-05:00

The flicker of the tents in masking arrangements around Paris.

Then a situation concerning the Seine, how nets seem like destinations, and finality brooms thru the hallway.

Lasting Hitler smiles phone call, it was the last straw. We said to Poland one say, Arise from the slap of snow on your face.

Lariat Hitler conked his head on belligerent stone. Heads up there.

Pouncing Hitler was equable, for the scuff of alpine weather reports news on a day.

Practical Hitler was story full forest.

Situational Hitler stayed prime number steady. And such a cask line jot the colourless thing that trailed behind until it was ahead.

Assertive program munitions branch.

Joust fossil lay about.

Doctor didactic death.

Not so much that the picture changes into the same picture, again a picture, again a storied picture stating claims of weaving thru stated claims of weaving. Repeat weaving, broom.

The friend of your favourite Hitler reclaims the stamen of the forest flower. Marketing Goebbels marketing, then a solace for the end of timing. End of Goebbels marketing the end of Hitler timing. We said dead birds on great congestion; they said the alien that we know the name of. Hitler’s just is a version, and soared your many like we know.

Rothschild

on the

train to Auschwitz

its

plucking form.

Plucking as form.

Plucking as belligerent form.

Hitler hash of all the splaying. Pared to prefer, as sudden works. It was Hitler works, it was Hitler works.

Today is differed dust,

they say.

On the Map of Book Launch

2011-01-09T09:32:00.001-05:00

Technique will, such as the collection of debutantes inside Sarah Plain head. The left foot eats the right foot, instantly converts leg into maintain. Force few nonsense sends victor for suds. The soothing flood means mordancy on points. Slaying a thing is conviction.

Knights of process consume randiness as a launch party. The book will appear tin every state, including dead. Pulped for a purpose, we brains touch connections in fashioned oddity. Something OT talk about runs against something said.

Sarah Poison played in water. One day, one fashion of day. The finish resumed in a chain of words, each one made from liens and steering. The cover controls the convection.

Noxious Gas Department

2010-12-27T19:28:00.001-05:00

I hate pianos and obloquy. Your last dad ate obloquy, how is he? Pianos rent parsimony, in debt to man. Man is the envelope, portioned and dragged. Downtown time for all.

Obloquy stands alone. The children of net worth find a wily tool. Downtown is Israel. I mean, Germany rose with Krupp armament, like a dilettante. Why do we spell correctly, if not for obloquy spoiling for piano?

Your first dad was carved from Teddy Roosevelt, a stern sort of stone. Dynasty was a TV show, not an inquiry into human tater. Men remain arrant.

Women are arrant too, with stones as vials. Nameless possible bags remain sand la pose.

Chartered rapture turns stodgy, just in time for New Years. We missed the moon, when it disappeared, but we did net need to wake.

I meant to stay easy about obloquy, a left handed word, but seasons change. Life is an abutment.

Women and men, for sure. Then rhyme, cooking, doctors making millions, and the whole politic gone smoky. This America votes itself lame.

Hi, I’m Bon Scott

2010-12-22T20:32:00.001-05:00

Nurture by which sky in dreams allows safely crashing. The times are that loud. Your narrative shows when you pull that star. When George Michael met presser radiance, turning hutchie cookie man toward libraries full of tambours. The crux became a lightweight buzz. Presser radiance wrote sincerity a letter, signing it with Bruce Springsteen’s name. Horse is vetted, province history. The tagline occurs, Presser radiance washes the brunt. Ties the blood my greyhound. Goshawk, the kind n [Kodak] George Michael met the presser radiance, to turn man hutchie cookie to the archives by the complete tambours. Difficulty became the lightened hum. Presser radiance wrote sincerity letter, signing it with the name Bruce Springsteen. Vetted horse, province history. Tagline occurs, to wash the presser radiance main attack. `Tis the blood my borzoi. Goshawk, form brings up which sky in the dreams it makes it possible to safely break. Times that loudly. The narrative your ______ shows when you you draw out that cord through the sex. George Micheal, it okay.ing across the floor. George Michael, he okay

I Will Wear the Green Willow

2010-12-22T20:16:00.001-05:00

Radiance is like a close ridiculous coffee spray fort. When the outside forces arrows and battering bombs call shots of whisky, we in the inner feel prepared. Radiance is hegemony stuck in the phantom. Your republican is a close squall bound fat junk of native tap root for the declarative roundabout for who we say we hope we are. Who are you, the throne room rings? Choppy weather on the wetness of water (we explain), sea of distance that makes excellent dream. Sample my bagpipe, churls and truculents. A front becomes a back, soon enough.

Sink the Pink

2010-12-22T19:59:00.001-05:00

Slapdash popular soap,

Radiating effort. Radiant,

The name of

Dog in fugitive

Restriction. The slapdash

One speaks to

Means squab. If

Farfel new plain

Of yaps the

Trap did, storing

Of the ignited

Light boggles sweet

Ethyl Life of

Brilliance. Unwed ion

Of Alfven offers

The type \ gift.

The fig tyrant

We caps lentos

Geniuses As [doff

Goes full pads

0pid of the

Sap flower \ [you.

Rest challenge of

Poi lives of

Jive African Witchcraft

Of naïf] Kim

Fenton 0padsfo [clearing

The fog of

Mind dumpy ventilator

Frozen mad ray.

The pull of

Epos work a

More mature brilliance

Of Gower of

The blanket of

The edge. geniuses

The erg gawk

Moby Grape all

Aloe band saline.

Wedding Song Sung Again

2010-12-21T06:11:00.001-05:00

The day renders green thru the wind and furnishings of the moon. The moon was shadowed tonight, well known, frosted, and passed. The night is our beginning. In effects of season and instrument, we have pulled tiny things from large and vaulting. This is creative, like the shadow capturing the moon’s garden. Now the wind, a doorway of sorts, continues. Testaments and words continue, fitted to stations, and the river rattles on. We love the river. It fends for the landscape and twists thru the orchard. The orchard holds our apples, bright and uncontested. Each apple is a sun, uncontested. We love the river, traveling on.

Entertain the Main Klein Bottle

2010-12-20T19:59:00.001-05:00

Enchant Led Zeppelin. Thane medal bindings the morph by which we report installations to fortitude. Thru nights off urgent lime pit, and the chorus of Wham!, modest earth. Release oft urgent props thru out the havens of Mordor until nickels in the breach. Dependent installations are potatoes not scarves gold rustle. Nematodes rely. Dust spectacle one dewlap foreground connects trusty impedance. Crust off music spent. The day offs Wham!, offs George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley, both, joining ace terrific. And Led Zap wire pills. Pilasters ace expression while the deacon off Serves Island renders fatly. The splice and beginning orphic splatters. Bear is canticle when canticles are coven. The hint in between return begins ace nesting. Such the benefit and such the prognosis. Given that spud, casting dray count heifer means business, so lives are the days our, our days are so. Drat monster cabbage, drat spaghetti squash. For summons, reason, for others, Wham!, the hit bandage.

It’s the Toys R Us Time of Year

2010-12-03T12:40:00.001-05:00

Are geese available for better religions? If so, they should be told. It is a merrie time of year and geese need vital plots of land, screws in the hay, fantasy forests with elves for dinner. Geese need Harry Potter underpants and presidential pardons across the brisk ocean waves. Religion is for pets but geese cannot be pets: they have wings. Wings simulate excess, increasing marketshare for those geese that can fly to normal places for dinner. Lunch with the president? You bet, but dinner is important, like religion. Always a dessert at the end.

Harbingers from the Backwoods

2010-11-22T21:36:00.001-05:00

Weather’s last excellence provoked symbolism akin to tempo. Or totems, posing as thought. Why speak without mystery when the world is so small?

A new season is as old as the hills. These specific hills are where we watch vague neighborhoods extrude their people. Something simple seems so obvious, without a willing of weather on ‘a night like this’. Professor Radiant writes an exhaustive book.

Books have been known for years. We know characters like we know our left ventricle. We know narrative like placing dull coins in our close hands. The theme is mother.

Professionals radiate an energy that presumes knowledge that survives words. Beyond muttering and beyond cogent purpose, our rasping surveys the lichen on a rock somewhere. We were there once, apparently.

Professor Radiant has been scholar and intricate haven for ideas. At the risk of totality, the Professor lifts Jacob’s ladder for electrical insight. The movie won’t be known for years.

In the written word unwritten ones engage the net. The net stimulates the imagination. Something will be shaken, and the process will resolve.

An ordinary day has ordinary weather. The hay gatherers near Stonehenge prepare for yet another day in time. Such did Professor Radiant determine.

The Cost of Leaves and Snow

2010-11-22T16:15:00.001-05:00

When you see Professor Radiant, could be long dress, mutton leg sleeves, hair pinned up seriously, and days. OR Professor Radiant could be waistcoat tweed, stiff collar, standard of facial hair, and days. The days picture well, in the course of empiric stating. Statement comes of words.

The words in time fill ontology reports, oozing sap of springtime maple. Text becomes love or commitment, at least in the souring autumn of apples hardly keeping, and rain rendering loosened leaves. Pity fails to stem the determining. Radiance becomes a best moment, bright as agitation. Winter means a sensible word sometimes.

Professor Radiant inculcates the skills needed in the pliancy of discovery, or so we think. Pressure applied to central point produces invoice of compassion. The laboratory glows with the next fantastic. Notebooks bear the results.

Professor Radiant, then a narration fostered for what a word is worth. Poetry is not as clever as the time it takes to read of worth. Radiance resumes the sun.

Stinko Goes to the Zoo

2010-11-22T08:29:00.001-05:00

It is that quiet, references now emblematic. A pattern of abuse wanders into a courtyard, looking grand or some strange theory. Discussion crumbles into quiet particles, each down to the last expectation. In this gingerly tumble, we think we can begin. Here, in this edge of worm, this shuck. The density of doors contributes to outside thinking. Rodeo fans yell in glee, having seen a rider gored by eminent bull, as if that were the whole telling. Yet unlovely people, making examples and distributing literature, claim mysterious rights. The real reason the place stinks is within the books they hold up. Weapons can’t be changed. The word within any mouth must live its life in that netherworld imagined for scantest moment. There, where you can’t turn away, where you can’t ignore or find alternate funding. There, in that political tornado. Otherwise the weakness wins, people still cheering for their claimed reasons. We need, we want, we urge, we taunt: simple as rhyme, simple as time. Stuck in jet set machinery, waiting for the club to convene, and no bird sings. What trajectory will claim the rest, the unbidden, the worm-eaten, the next to nothing? Hello ocean of intensive care, the wound still gapes. People think they laugh. No bird sings.

Professor Radiant

2010-11-22T07:10:00.001-05:00

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.

Custer Would Like to See You, Glen

2010-11-14T11:33:00.001-05:00

Fascinations flip over transition with caustic recklessness. That's called resignation, and it smells like falling. Each word, bent in the canyons of those scented processors, receives conditioned and naturalistic response. It's fair to approach limits with downsized political competence. The city streets look wet. People walk there, amidst the same pronouns as ever. Glen Beck has his hammock ready. This isn't really a poem, Glen.

Tacitus Plays Handball

2010-11-05T23:33:00.001-04:00

The way red maples imitate Byzantium, when Byzantium ions sustain Norway maple perplexed with the intrusion of cold air masses. Republicans resemble parsing, if parsing were the word for feathery litmus. But if feathery litmus were the extent of parsing, crashing of periodical airplanes, and a Timbuktu positron seduction to rival the best cheap vodka, would be the ultimate sweat lodge for Friday night. Is this extreme? Are marshes extreme, for all the petulant stairways thriving in the modicum of constancy? You seek thrushes that refer to brownness, opals that are opulent water, stem cells that create mocking, and oracular miniskirts that resume a bygone cage. Position rebukes boom box, our native Republicans like steam, our Democrats crave wet. In stylish organdy, the teasing philosophic lodestar crumbles nuclear. You who region budget-savvy refrain from excessive Triassic periods, knowing that we are all born in a cave-in in Jura, like a bunch of crowded bulimics. We all but like them. So now, with civilization in hand, lights cresting on Doppler sunsets, and splendiferous sunset has been inculpated finally, well that I like you, meanness of human contact. A poet contains a poem but is no more than a planet surveyed by ballistics.

Second Step

2010-11-03T08:14:00.001-04:00

I sing the rampart and the minute element. Your sweat lodge, boosterism, and declension thank you. This fly frame shows the fractal of the various intentions that stabilize the actual principle person of stupidhead soon in the earlobe intended for conforming. As for the back story that knits the regent period, FLAN is hastened, attached, and decorated. Must the egg form custard always? Askance nobility class! As for the obstacle to refreshening spiritual quality when stopping in line for remodeling, boiling with fire can be clouded. The kingdom is actualized as a man-hour convention. Being pissa belongs to the register that imitates moderate intelligence. That makes the moat. A finger points to the opposite of finger. This time you must vote:

1. Is a kind of energy which keeps passing by that waterway actualized?

2. McGraw-Hill and the licensor who turns left should owe no responsibility to you.

Standards of Fuss

2010-10-16T09:16:00.001-04:00

Emily Dickinson started something, time and tide. A match enclosed a flame, perfect fret, a candle was next, a condition, A concrete fact as distributed… Emily woke from the direct statement. A lighter feeling, closer to the moon, but then autumn was at hand. tossing pilgrims into the satisfying wind. This meant another day or two, startled by butterfly, ignored by rocks. Patient, like a quick thing on the edge of something slow, she. Doctored by delight, she stewed then flung, winked then bartered. Whisky was not a real man.

The Beats Created Cargo

2010-09-21T21:26:00.001-04:00

Slave argosy stoic creamed sprayed raygun,

Boston chocolate bouncing prevailed upon morons,

Underwater clobberer controlled Kangamagus Highway,

Caustic renal rapport routs rheumatism quiz,

Donavan leech leaves late leaves,

Curacao collectible club concerns crabbiness.

Bunch farthing betterment node matters in neon,

Bebop electrical unit slurps easy feasibility,

Racist harmony like ladle loops landing lariat delight,

We had a ladle in the works. Pause. Then Jack Kerouac primely drunk on cards. We laughed. The switches opened and the canal stuttered curiously. The mentioned Concordm and the mighty Merrimack Rivers collide in an idea of overthrowing the ocean. Lowell stinks, but children,nonetheless. Socio-Palin disease extends , now in the 21^st silly century.

Feelin’ Bad, the Days of Spooky Tooth

2010-08-20T21:14:00.001-04:00

Pocket-sized research grant records patient leaning in some bygone age.

Proper agrarian sensibility astounds every member of The Cure. On a good day.

The Monkees were panelists.

Paul Simon gestured towards slouching distant constellations, Art Garfunkel no help when the patterns became clear.

And then Kenny Rogers took drugs with flower children tasting tasty with the condition his condiment is in.

Sasquatch invalidated by the time I get to Phoenix. Record your loss here.

This Is Serious Money

2010-08-20T20:41:00.001-04:00

When Sarah Palin became a rash, true twins unearthed like distance and we want to know more. Sarah’s forest figures in the fingers of slipping past dawn were raw ripping of calico. These planets should know within our lifetime. So lucky, with Russia ready to move in, the degree in which Sarah Palin could write one word after another. Dogs have proven that dinner is yummy like a doctor. Depend on Sarah as a plum based on previous plums. We cannot forget the seat prevailing in the swift clouds around Mt Everest. A unique pattern of crunchy yet withered forgery faced Sarah for a tennis court minute. Sarah’s opulent progeny, built by Vincent van Gogh, leaves hundreds of collectors questioning expertise. It’s ok van Gogh style: test tubes will always have babies.

First Tattoo

2010-08-20T20:12:00.001-04:00

The apple falls because it is plump. The bit of leaf floating in the pool reacts to change. We were restless. The Doors were on television describing arcs of colour for the first time. You were a piano bench, as I recall, and I was a town in Massachusetts. Both of us saw time fly.

Thirsty in the Sky

2010-08-07T22:05:00.001-04:00

Information figures in the apricot bonded to the sky in verge of dawn. Expertise settles in the silt phrases of cloud. Those clouds remember the real Bob Dylan. That Bobby Dylan sifted like a crustacean. Cetaceans refer to practical chords in long watery moans. Crustaceans flick central switch. Bobby has time for mild restriction and a broken back. He sent a text message to the drummer of Aerosmith. Joey: How are you going to pass for excitement? Verbal integrity blooms ironically as one legged sailor falls from the mast of imaginary ship.

This Is My Vehicle

2010-08-07T21:54:00.001-04:00

The simple is a caustic rose with dangling participles filled with abject crème. Wings of increase saturate a verbose thousand million. Disappointment augments the lasting, including experts wearing earrings. Chockablock regnant piquancy requires source code with federated poopdeck. No, poopdeck is wrong word associated. Words alert government officials. Sailors sleep. Poppycock, the element of surprise, manages Reagan’s team of non-elected leaders. The president exists in a vacuum. No, winsome loops require freehand drawing style motivated by Black Tuesday. Forget ornate doggerel rapt for candidate plasma. The shrouds of Billerica survive with canoes, an age old answer. Sorry about your Comedy Central, mine has fine hair with 50% more protein. And did I tell you about exploring Europeans seeing the Colorado River flummoxed by age old stone? Those Europeans were ripped from the pages of toad stories. Plate tectonic processes, very impressive, work thru different presidential administrations. We pushed it, subject of sentence, across the floor.

Are These Extraterrestrials Doing This?

2010-08-04T21:31:00.001-04:00

The report of the cornet in the morning sounds like Sarah Palin’s half of the ocean. It is obviously not natural, no cornet is. The sun wobbles on its pretend axis, which causes us to consider Sarah Palin as the last apple in a long line of bananas. Strange, her hooves look fine, her dormancy is equable, and her siren is justly provoking. Somebody tell *Derek Fenner* to read this poem, an iceberg floats in Palin’s half.

Michael Jordan is Fat, Mr Stallone

2010-07-29T20:52:00.001-04:00

FIRST

Axl Rose takes the dynamite and runs to the bridge. Snake isn’t happy, hats are not allowed. Suddenly, Yeti appears. The bridge must fall: narrative has been invoked. We will not let our clients down®. Then Axl Rose tremendously. Yeti. It is not a justified Steve Carell movie but a populist pilsner taste, like you could believe the Internet on this one. Rays of damage prop up the worst poets, who have been settling for marks on their cards. Those cards, Pirandello: Who was Sancho Panza? Axl ties up reticence and believes he will find last year. The bridge stands for statue, and we never mentioned opulence as a radical trace in flimsy maunder stage. Gorse, heather, tramps ramping toward the gust of purple flowering in Bruce Willis slid across the table of, not Schwarzenegger, banter like sluice.

Less Expansion and Contraction

2010-07-29T19:07:00.001-04:00

The start of truck stop panoply secured torrent in possible misplay. The muse sweats Lindsay Lohan's terms, which include wow factored to. Barn Door. You listening truck stop where pancakes are segments of society? Prison changes a person… How far is it from the beach?

The Landslide Took Place

2010-07-28T21:06:00.001-04:00

Dads are great tho typical. Flickering clouds tell dads that flowers fill rumpus. We want rumpus in the US alone. We fill plastic bottles with water and say rumpus means clocks. Clocks track dad with events. Moms too. We all have moms and dads, and the dust never clears.

The Brackish Waters of Rhinebeck

2010-07-28T05:52:00.001-04:00

Dawn includes something drifting, like continent. Dawn invents a vestment, cooling breeze, studded clouds with the effect of reaction. A federal opportunity mentions Chelsea Clinton, her wings, the barn she left, the vantage of the brushfire she will marry in triplicate. The caring public snorts with optimal cumulous. Organic reaction stops rainfall at the threshold, starting with the Bill of Rights and moving on to other damp documents. Rain will provide a forest so that Bill and Hillary can install a map on the plain features of dirt. Chelsea will spring to mind with every Joni Mitchell song played till stopgap, then the lank Republican buddy system will trim morass and moraine from budget-minded challenge. We will have to repair the ocean soon.

A Nicer Night

2010-07-28T05:41:00.001-04:00

Dick Morris reveals how to prepare for coming aftershock! His stuffed pillow is a kraken. Rental closure plans Chelsea Clinton’s wedding (it is in a pricey ditch). A watery tone poem thrust into conversation transforms the regal stopgap. Now we intend to explore how yachts make the man, if the man is John Kerry. A pin fell into a well.

Stockyards explode with great prisms of sweat. Dick Morris is a sample of the plausible program pulled thru a hole in a 12 dollar bill. Captain Phil is a marginal ransom, asking price of launching. Now that the president sucks wasting day, we can go to ‘town’. Town is inference nestled between two frantic polis. Your child, then, explains fathers to mothers.

And Dick Morris is not even flame resistant, just fetched upon quasar seeming. The poem flaps less truly now, excavated with a list of words.

Those Jerks in the iPhone Commercial

2010-07-28T05:40:00.001-04:00

There is a poem presented in glass form, chills of summer. A whisper of father and mother makes increment, glistering patois. Shades of Apache clouds cling to New England willow. People are not panicles, no matter how planted. Last thought is first thought.

I Admire Your Bathtub

2010-06-01T21:47:00.001-04:00

Dear Extortium,

If you were blonde, you would be a trivet, and that explanation would deliver contracts to Obama, for the sake of a middle class that surrounds éclairs. Why burst when crusts of bread are discarded like embolisms? Cabbage remains ocular, in the garden, that day, memory like a transit authority.

Extortium, the mellow fundament of sneak attacks and snacks resolves in a great television evening. We will write a new document that includes Artemis and Oprah Winfrey. We want a sport model, now, just like a tunnel thru sluggard language vents.

Extortium, Swiss cheese in a hospital is no unguent. Yeti smirks at the idea of perfect cheese. Escalators are easy to explain.

We await, and after that finality, we move. Moving is a method for all sentients. Mars as a planet compares to other large masses. Johnny Carson is dead.

Extortium, Obama failed as fulcrum, but what were we thinking? Fulcrums are so topic sentence, infer paragraph of when we were up, then down. That slice, Extortium, boggles the muggle smoke. British Petroleum invents a hole, and we are talking about Allen Ginsberg’s toe.

Field and valence,

Allen

P.S. There’s a boiler room in the southeast corner.

That Sister of Yours

2010-05-31T21:22:00.001-04:00

This Vatican in my pocket smells like penchant, said the Arch Duke Sasquatch. Feast is enabled by clear thinking and toads listening to their mothers. Clusters sparkle for the bass, which presents its topic sentence, which then studs the wall of inquiry while the guitar roams for more aspersion. We weave to the sidebar, where uncorked sensation revels for a word. Each word, a romance itself, spoon, dilettante, refectory. The ocean includes hermit crabs.

Documents still as Arch Duke Sasquatch says, que pasa. Pianos float to the top, inspired by chords. Fires in Quebec mark the sky. You are a cargo plane, says Arch Duke Sasquatch, and everyone becomes their underwear.

Dark Spot Corrector

2010-04-20T21:27:00.001-04:00

Sifted breeze is the same integer of frogs in spring, night caulked with standards raised to stars, brief endings in the middle of sentences. The sentences include the same frog with integer, numbered as throng while sticking to severe chorus. Listening is equal to containing the half spin of a fertile globe. Poems are impetuous.

We read to Yeti, in a night swirl, glowing in fire that arrived from cave. Cave is the first word, finally.

Yeti clamps the mountain for time, stops when the stars are still in winter, stays close to a subtle television. CBS is the greatest television network.

Frogs slide across the kitchen floor, known as mystery of night.

Chill breezes disturb the fence behind which a pond harbours the mention of frogs.

Yeti is a book known for the mountain on which a tribe is born. Fresh frogs arrive each spring.

Distant Melon

2010-02-20T17:09:00.001-05:00

Recent disclosure, the pans have handles, each one preset with a place for hand. Hand is umbilical, recent research declares. Such as in the life of Immanuel Kant, singing with Simon Garfunkel, adipose back door.

Stern ray gun of the really. Base emblem for chaos: Cake in the bathroom.

Toggle switch of the gods.

Swishing bunting of the patriotic mending pants.

Rubber duck of the post moderns.

Patches on the ass, thank you.

Go on with your story Mr.. Lucas, very fine good.

Spatula in the force of Emily Brontë.

Mordancy as a refrain inspired by doxy.

Gertrude Stein reading sheet music, three sheets to the wind.

Such the such of such.

The New System (fragments are barnburners)

2010-02-13T18:45:00.001-05:00

Vicars roam the countryside, inquiring after Hegel. Hegel, surreptiously, asserts whatever documentary evidence that will suffice. He loves the music of Ferde Grofé.

Those hammocks in the west are donkeys. That vat in particular is the Grand Canyon.

Vicars realized the essential message. Freed Grofé wrote a doctored document, which caused Hegel to trumpet.

Fragments are barnburners, so the symptoms will remain:

1. Codger art forgettable

2. Bounty flagrant cop tart

3. Byzantium bibulous

4. Drape maker condiment

5. Fidelity wreak wrack cobalt

6. Sagacious foo worker triumph of lien parade guck

7. Swards of weeds preamble gusset hep tone squeegee enrichment eek Yorker roam the fool stoppage Cantabriggian werewolf finally awesome sweat bank barracks ode bomber

8. Nice try nodule mode of recent

9. Next fact cure told the moon bean raillery

10. Spice girls ladle program

11. Ambient twain fox as spoon arrival

And by the end of the symphony, seeing Hegel remorseful on the oboe, studying the contrast between assorted vicars in the claque, the regency of Ferde Grofé prunes newsworthy distinction: A yeti sits in the balcony.

And by the end of the end of the symphony, realizing trope has gone too far, the standard for understanding fitting a tired post named Paulo Freire, Leninists revise the latest revision, just to ensure a metre of process. This goads the new narrative, which was washed with a pioneering claim, then left for talk. Talk instantly bobbed up as conversation among vicars.

Modes of vicarage show consistency thru the ages. Generally the vicar lives there. Most non-vicars do not. The world, thus, can be sorted by vicarage and vicar. If vicar then. The vicar specific must be claimed before discussion can proceed.

More articles can be confederated from this point, sharing essentials and tailing back to the presence of Paulo Freire on the side of each side.

When language is constant, people are culled.

Lenin and the Carful

2010-02-01T19:11:00.001-05:00

Lenin’s turn, of course. In a language trucking over the name of mountains, in a language fit for snow, the chorus sounds reasonable. Lenin’s reasoning follows a research grant, fosters pragmatism, flies off with a boot. The boot is a fissure in the dominant track. Pioneers fade with revision.

Lenin, of course, stood out. That cranium contained a flap over the autism that requires every ethic of fading. Torture is credible, as is the fulcrum on which the balance schemes with bombs.

Lenin’s heart is in the shape of Sarah Palin’s populist.

Lenin’s head is in the shape of Dick Cheney’s intendant.

Lenin’s phlogiston melts for all the right reasons.

In our heartened doggerel we find a platform that dates to the primal Tsarist algorithm sifted by Google to historical analogue. A subwoofer can set off a weapon. Lenin, the subwoofer, sets off the appropriate rifles. We need tea in our teabags, says Sarah Palin, alleviating Alaska from the musk of ideals. Lenin knew that Alaska once was; fully mapped was his report. Now Steve Jobs is on the phone, the phone he finally invented. Lenin stood there, ready to affirm.

Thus Spake Captain Element

2010-01-29T19:02:00.001-05:00

The rattle of canticles woke Captain Element from the extremes of river view. A posse of water, gallant fields, a cricket wakeful to manners: all this spread vistas like a trust. Captain Element, superb in the bloom of dawn, spoke highly of the event, translated through the spaces of time into a doorway beyond which winter fails to include. I agree with my dizziness, said Captain Element to the tune of reading aloud. The Reader, not the Writer, comes forward to shake the monstrance in one quick indication. Reader realizes that wild winds are privy to our warmth, winter damages are fretful through the orchard, and spring is a distance away. I travel to the light side of war, remarked Captain Element, having seen that a President can speak a lot. The country is downsized, read the reports. Canticles register in the space left after input. Readership must waken, is the logical deduction. And good old narrative will find a way through, right through news of the next layer of war.

Pat Robertson in Haiti

2010-01-16T19:48:00.001-05:00

I know the inevitable controls the docket. I know this docket travels parsing. Freedom is the lapse of effects of Pat Robertson on Haiti while trouble is his gown. I know the gown that Pat Robertson wears. He wears the seeming and the dress. He wanders the Haiti that he was told. He is angry in a nonce, a pity to see. A real person laughs because Pat is a sap characterized by impairment of the ability to form normal social relationships, by impairment of the ability to communicate with others, and by stereotyped behavior patterns. He is the god of Haiti, but he is still a sap. He is a laughing reference to what’s wrong with chairs, but he is still a sap. His remains are a laughing reference to what falls downhill, a gown worth falling for. He falls downhill in Haiti, where bedsheets survive the excellence that will not control him. His zombie is a blessing, such a gift of words. He does not get it, those social cues that are strong as wheat. He is a winter parted down the middle. He is an island, parted down the middle. He is a dome, parted down the middle. His dogged restitution survives with Brylcreem, parted down the middle. He is the sap of sapience, parted down the middle. His wink is kind to Asperger’s, parted down the middle. His punchline is gownlike, parted down the middle. His reference is a pullet, parted down the middle. When he runs home, he is final, parted down the middle. There remains his last word, parted down the middle. I know that the inevitable controls the docket, redolent of listening. The docket is propped in the course of social cause, parted down the middle. The middle is extreme, parted down the middle. The middle is Pat Robertson’s left and right, parted down the middle. The middle is the perfect autism, parted down the middle. Pat Robertson finds the finest strikeforce, parted down the middle.

The Harmony

2010-01-16T19:12:00.001-05:00

Not the commercial but a blend of reason and world. Pastures creak with essence of not that time but nearing. A sweep of increment shows blasts of sentiment, clocks darkened with cattle fury, grasses bent to Halloween. The snows defer or someday. We read a passage. There is a word for gumption: that word is gumption.

Anniversary Singing, Beth and Me

2009-12-21T19:46:00.001-05:00

On our anniversary, many years include. A sighting of many indications past a door or window settles in our view. Muting single adjectives for the fine sentence that says certain words on a bridge, we mark the day. The day invites a child and casts a doubt on doubt itself. This is a strange winter place to start a light action, yet the passing river is advice, dancing pigeons are advice, and words are where we meet. Not the only place, and not the only diction, but we take the touches as they come. Process is mutation, or something like that. We will murmur along the route of feeling, in the snow of feeling, in the field of feeling, in feeling all its own. Human as trek and water and will and when, we are transitory, maybe, but not at this moment. We stay true, in our odd imperial ways, to the slanting deference of our unapology.

Parked Beside the Ocean in West Virginia

2009-12-19T09:36:00.001-05:00

West Virginia with a wind nettled by nitrogen caused crying in little bays. Our people all called on, and later on. The drift of trees with all enclosure asserts the breathtaking and come back. Stains are prose dependents of the moment. Even as we meet we tend to bending winds and which of the rivers overflowing. That wild Walt Whitman whipped slaves with his cultural tag, but dash with the symptoms. We asked a lot of him. Still, the nerve of West Virginia starts a revolving nature. It started a hind as it was loose in the gloom of green. The mines were political mayhem in gross venue. We took that test as provocation. Now, seasons are startling. A coast of music makes us. We effort the strands of capture wood. A mountain blows up, skirl of bagpipe oxygen. And wet nurse the factotum, little wonder ball in. Square flatness plucks banjo remains. Adjacency ropes the winded monarch, and Boston is the west part of the final east. No ease but bugging the factory with hidden agency. Clocks of Delphic process slobber fretful verse, which is the target of a word or two. Jim Morrison arrived by plane to extend his hand. It was a hand like straw for practice.

Gnostic as Early Followers

2009-12-19T09:35:00.001-05:00

The town is filed and prairie. A diamond culled from our fence receives this victim: a chill in time. We stayed with our logic and felt lines. We searched. Close ingots plopped to mellow refrain. Wet earth asserts a sentiment and week, wild factoid omelet. This love of fineness, our love in fineness, stretches across the dirt path to fill welcoming forest. A poem, there, met with a reading eye. We light, perched as dew on leaf or snow when the wind is middle. Thus the plan and wings over volcanic stretches constitutes unique take and given time. Saints flicker in preparation.

Walt Whitman Slid, We Slid with Him

2009-12-19T09:34:00.001-05:00

Obama of the American rocks sailed into Ocean. He carried forward oil, unmanaged care, and causal alphabets that filled reproach with American style. Ardent as backtalk, streams were funded by elect and elite, which just says more goes on than a vast dot in the sky can include. Afghanistan was a place of exclamation, Iraq a fold of linen, then where and what? Clear fragrance and details wrought from exclusionary tactics, and impressed us. Working on principles and drying in the sun, Obama cleared the stage for more release. Guantanamo was a house organ for spurious plants. Palin was doctored for underground sewage reports. McCain caulked the leaks with lettuce. Pirates stood askance on the provoking shoreline, Democrats were crunched by berries, Republicans sloped for reasonable clog. We saw weird twisters on the plains, Bibles made of caustics, choices roiled with implied aperture. People, stand for the word inside. We have haze over haze, charging to condition, inveighing against ice. The fleece is over the sheep, the train is following the caboose.

The Just Right Taste

2009-11-24T20:43:00.001-05:00

A lake of Asperger where the words. Words are not flak jackets or cornets, said time to go. Asperger water is a drink until. Rain of reason stays open for time till winter. Winter is arrow after dark, across the sky that Orion stays.

A lake of Asperger water waters ideas and then. Then is plain. Plain reminds us of falling into a point like a wee star in all that sky. After a word or forgetting, the poem is imagined, but only in time. Then starts and tears, like fierce amber held for time. Time is the water after all dryness. Asperger tastes like endless pools. Pools forget.

Sentiment reminds Asperger’s water of afterimage. Chants reciprocate. A cauldron boils with onset membrane. Status remarks asseverate a benign condition exacted on water by Asperger. Our friends are water, said Asperger.

Daybreak Seasonal Pond

2009-11-18T07:24:00.001-05:00

Your breakwater, Asperger’s, flusters. You are a vowel sometimes, chance repetition going towards language bait. You, Asperger’s, frame something causal in life sequence, excepting the social as downright. Oxygen, the pattern of lament in the tower climate, calls only portions for you. Classicists rearrange the vocabulary for constancy. Asperger’s is a homing, albeit prone to stab in the dark. Craters on the moon report as reflections of outside. Process a cambric sway, Asperger’s, thru machinations of distinction. Torn prose figures mightily, you suckers in the crowd. Asperger’s does have a home town.

Extensive Search

2009-11-18T07:23:00.001-05:00

Poor mountain, struggling constant word. Whiplash pause as pride, petulant slope, the people of Nepal. A cornerstone of interlocutor controls pine spread wilderness, flower of autumn. Casualty railroad infers the next sentence, passing thru clouds, with widget spice regaled by ripples. Abstract ambling buffets broken sleep. Assailant strikes, as a culture, but no surprises, just an unrevealing death.

Tonight in Lexington

2009-11-18T07:22:00.001-05:00

Trustless in the sail bloom

Riffle whales of doffing mistress

Bloke active crash action tool

Resists the pantry elbow biotope

Conking registers flick the passive cave balloon

With furbelows of instant web instructors

Botulism pantry waste convenes

A bossy nest of fetters

Fantastic For (A Document Drone)

2009-09-20T05:44:00.001-04:00

A sentence is a train station. The train begins to explode. It continues exploding, with a bolt of action verb. It finishes exploding.

This is my stop, says the writer. Writers say, say now.

Stopping is pelagic. Shadows of oceanic occurrences inveigh against the cool mammal within. Oh. My.

A poem is pelagic, but that does not help the condition. Condition, that is, of carrying sentences to their plump reward. With reader in tow. Hello reader, glad that you could.

A sentence is a place where Yeti stops. Yeti mountain stops.

This material example is praxis, constancy among urges.

A sentence stems from earlier sentences, tho the earliest is gone.

A sentence is not a poem, a poem is.

Yeti is the best imaginative reversal of norm so far today.

A better reversal soothes verbs, plucks nouns from the air, dazzles adjectives in sullen relief, and boys and girls are tired.

Writing is a gasp for forensic sake.

My love is not a poem (said the writer, here, now). My love (continued) is named and this date.

Dates are sentences, as are people.

The Fantastic Four are just about done.

Consider the sentence, while Reed Richards stretches and Sue Storm disappears.

A poem is, itself, a sentence.

Pomp & Circumstacnes # 12 & 35, the Plural of Pomp

2009-09-18T07:30:00.001-04:00

Rumours trickled as Steve Jobs landed on Mars. Shadows that night were strong and wavered alarmingly. Toads of wet nature filed remorse, pouring Steve into network. Season of mist and mellow room for little more startled Elgar and common sense. You could divine the nature of a practical sentence while we wait for more. These stars are not wholly natural.

You speak in the tongue of left out of, remarked sternly Steve in the front section. Even a verb could stop in its tracks, to hear him say so. Heft of dawn as imperious range of feeling. This is the mood when young Steve Jobs procured federation. Exact nature of this august equation went into books. Books filled the trunk, which caught fire.

Steve Jobs, in relation to Venus and Mars, among the celestial upbringing, dour in cause, slops up Vegan gravy. Well wishers equate nose with bother. Shadows grew in importance as people signed each others name. This name is now mine, said Steve Jobs. Billy Gates laughed. It is a strange courage you give me, man, said Gates the Giver. Then trumpets, then not.