it was a lank discovery, studied so that peaches grew in equine summit, parsing swift umbrage with a glockenspiel drill. weird aspects sopped in nitrates loomed over nitrites on a breakfast morn with twin engine custard. why, then, do we dream in rich panacea, while the gods in goofball flopping spend sentences in torchlight? postulates of pungency sound like marzipan over prairie dog, and yet we return to the same manor, the same rood of temper, the same gorse-lined object sentence. a noun brings forceps while a verb tries hard. terrorists bring sump pumps to the back porch, and spring once again begins.
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.
Comments