we think we are making inroads, then the bear walks down the hill. is it spring already? definite clouds give way to ephemera of roads based on memory. Renaissance music fills the rood in which we walk, while a galloping bear prepares the year for spring. it has wrestled with the majority and hunkered down. now is a pleasant concept, devised in a language. we go on in the language. trifles of crocus send dogma packing, patches in the clouds form rescue league. diurnal plectrum, modest increment, political quark, and all these reasons to trust. a dusting of sunlight lays smartly on the early grass. sullen children with their numchucks resist bailout offers while seminal scalawags reap status alerts on Facebook. Jennifer Aniston arises in the bedded morn to speak of dark and wonderful things. her Agamemnon is like no other. justice scouts plenty and decides. voices lift the bandage. the government and all its particles cluster on the finest point. upon this point a team from Facebook ...
poems, fireflies...