ritual bear developed a broad expanse. words of its clime sifted thru ripe clouds that sent rain, even to the the human world. dizzying process suffered the pants off of human endeavour. the bear was wild in increments of favour. we read of drastic change, and felt that Afghanistan could stand a chance. Afghanistan is named for the land where the land is. and people people the land. and bears are arguments in the landscape. they play as a river filled with bears searching for ultra shores where blueberries control life. life is savoured in increments of blueberries. nobody dies but a few relatives of Ted Hughes. they read of ends and distances, then see a bear, and the bear runs off. when the bears run off, we lose a farmstead. each bear in the landscape represents one lost farmstead. each lost farmstead is the death of a relativity. the basis of poetry resides in the project of armed forces certifying the troubled landscape in Afghanistan. do we really believe in Afghanistan? it is a trial balloon in the shape of a bear. bears are promontories in the landscape. they drill bombs into arguments, and believe land mines include eternity. was Jennifer Aniston there at the beginning of Afghanistan? she was raised by bears, at least in the mathematical sense of one Jennifer processed by barnstorming fierce marauder becomes a barn door blown open by bear argument. the bear itself is easily killed, with a fluid ritual of wanting. do you want a bear down on the ground near you, finished but for your gesture of efflorescence? the vision starts now, with your own president elect. you are Bernie Madoff. you are the cloak of an answer.
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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