In these days of buckets, victims of haze process religion and other. Dates reveal other dates, confounded by duplicates and fidget. Reasoning supplies iffy contours on the well-brewed and inviting map. Why are the positions on this map coloured orange? This is your season, taxpayer, make the rules. Then rustle of papers, or cattle, and object becomes abject. What were the times doing to the endless stream of positions remaining? Strategies and pork. Now gum on the shoes, called Libya, becomes one more new long training session. We were expecting John Berryman to rise from the floor once more.
It begins with a scanning of light, a settlement of words. The lightly fracture of Bird sound begins in the office of seeing. Not sentiment but sense, as cool as Green in the Early days. Pasture resists nonpasture, no one Refers to none. All remains including nothing. Morning Is belief and there simply there. Tides go freshly to the point.
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