Information figures in the apricot bonded to the sky in verge of dawn. Expertise settles in the silt phrases of cloud. Those clouds remember the real Bob Dylan. That Bobby Dylan sifted like a crustacean. Cetaceans refer to practical chords in long watery moans. Crustaceans flick central switch. Bobby has time for mild restriction and a broken back. He sent a text message to the drummer of Aerosmith. Joey: How are you going to pass for excitement? Verbal integrity blooms ironically as one legged sailor falls from the mast of imaginary ship.
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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