Three billion devices run. Squirrel in the next yard, patient click of candidate words, patterns of cloud in sky. Each device runs, with each mention of each squirrel that ruins the evening. Morning gains an edge, fraught device features elbows and plain things. Now the motion of the land, even a temblor, even a sigh of land in movement, even as we sit. The candidate of words speaks in three billion devices, and every device runs. In the imagination, the squirrel runs the device, and the device runs billions. In the imagination, three billion run device, and words run three billion. More devices than people in 2012.
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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