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 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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