the helicopter sank in daily news, 17 of 18 passengers dying. dying planks the mooring, folds simple people into rushed stream. civilized society draws stripes in power maze, as Saigon falls several times (Dong and Thi fled to Cambodia, while Diem excoriated the United States for a perceived lack of support), like helicopter ditched in provocative sea. android is futuristic, thank Star Trek plantation. a sentence sticks to rules, buoys upon cold sea and the facts thereof. we read of things, hear more, add something called data. Data, the android, was powerful message of how you can stick in the mud. mud is at bottom, where the sunk chopper settled. it no longer chops but creates a place of rest. not really. a poem wants all that entailed, then data for the margins. thus Star Trek, a winning combination of actions and reactions. we learned today helicopter. period.
From the thing itself, beyond seasoned aptness. Life is like living but blurred by you were listening. Aspect ratio telemetry in myriad languages smooth as rocks approaches time to look. Words piece together things or things find words. Endlessness is a choice, written big in words as shiny as geese. Words simply take the time in radiation and radical point. Stein wrote the heft of nothing special, start there or whatever. You can slowly adjust the franchise, commodity's inner workings. Subglacial quips, subliminal washouts, frantic azure in the breeze of frosty Friday: these special sparking hallways slyly enjoin. Maybe you read too much into reading too much. Further on is where you’ll stay.
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