Even the clouds, tending toward rain in bunches of infinite drops, actuate the possibility of a love straight into the sea. Each ocean needs this bursting refreshment, the bitter plying rush from the Concord to the Merrimack to insistent visitation of the great moody sea. The sea spends its endlessness in planning, which is just krill, shrimp, plankton and exacting diatoms in unguarded swaths and ready-made tenderness. Misty years burn thru the cold beneath the world's best water, assuming process. Misty years examine whale and shark, siding one way or another while remora take the ride. That ride extends into the history of lifetime, with wet pictures of opulent clouds. When clouds fall back to the sea, people rise and make morning. Morning has grey to a pinkness, as timely these people note. Then why more rain, more struggle, more clocks ahead? It's the sun craving, with wild wings of blindness. Such summery expanse will stop at nothing, until nothing itself becomes condition. And so the name, the name, the loss of number when unit persists. People talk and make clouds, clouds batter the rain, rain shifts infinite drops until nothing more to say. This is no problem, we say, as we straighten our look back. The clouds have been good to follow us so far. Do you see the pattern here?
The work becomes chiding of sunlight. The work is elegy and shaded. The principle ciphers as a god, in the way transience is purpose. Transience works this brief, ending fields, making trees concern. The hell of halting midway identifies the work of burning thru. Forever makes a sign. Sign makes worthy. Indeed the tramp of feet forward concludes any sentences but suggests more. Long sentences, stupid words. The caroling heard by Dante, brilliantine remorse for a better tide. The long road up from down, and turned around. The work then becomes the work now, as stained glass similitude. Anxious in the class structure of catastrophe, the baying song over all. Nothing to do but be done. Ruskin gave you papers to remind you. Slow battering concedes the earth in time. Time being functional and oblique. The worker inside sees the nation by exhalation. Transitive connection sports of culture. The class that ends becomes the class that begins, both left and right.
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