Treat poetry as a meddlesome link to that part of the transit authority in charge of lightly tapping a door before entering. Then open the door because you hear a bass solo over rock floors and a ceiling the height of long shadows. Drum solos fade into doctor’s left hand. Waiting expectantly provides a door form of window, which can then needlessly be filled with music. We are not gaining on the sun but a simple sentence; whenever will one appear? Endless refineries darken skies that were once sulfurous but got over it. Politics, aka Shemp Howard, studiously learns Paul Ryan. The moon was glad to see the last glade on earth.
Walking is not walking if Gertrude chooses not to walk. The premise: Gertrude Stein is not walking. She may be on a boat, not walking, crossing the wide ocean sea. Leaving inevitable France but not walking. Dramatic but not walking. Sentenced but not walking. There were days of walking but not this day. Reading or just looking but not walking.There were sentences full of walking but not walking. Talking maybe but not walking in or out. A time lived and walking was done then if not now. It was a doing and it was a done. Not forgetting Alice who may have had walking done or even doing. The annals say Leo Stein walked along, up to and including the degree of not walking, along. Those flower names walked along, Matisse, Picasso, Laurencin, in varieties. An adding war or two closed or opened anything jump. Apollinaire in the historical. Languages of shapes and sizes bounding for just the time and a little beyond. And that was the how sentence. In that time but also forward until readi...
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