Dash of the federated day. Those of the assertion bring death to George Butterick. The editor was a mask. We lost in timeless seems, and fitting everything to the practice of attack. Cloisters resist sentences. Fate resemblance stalls in logical supremacies. Try writing thru the gorgeous brisk language. Death is certain, and bite and bitter freshet of disruption. Butterick died with the weeds of Olson. We are not painted for factories or science scansion. Andrew Marvell stopped by an apple tree. Emily Dickinson changed Emily Brontë. Reference page dissolved into peers. Still, the river daze and leaping grasses: practicum of matter.
poems, fireflies...