Words do not think anymore. They wrap around trays containing envy and shrike. They seize foments just as walking thru the door. Green sassy aspirations relax into brook standard issue winding. Roll on, virtuous energy that knows about entropy. Goldfish rule the pond.
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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