Skip to main content

Justin Bieber Peed

In times of peace we listen to music over the hills and drag carcasses to the train station. Music and carcasses win a fulfillment of the peacely penitence of time in our way. Shadows of fantastic skid to a knowing concern, for carcasses or the result of their presence. The sky means to be clear but never can finish its sentence.

There might be a volcano in store for Brockton, where trucks park without resistance. In the formal days when Worcester existed and trains would arrive with carcasses, the humans involved in feeling things loomed over the better things.

The hills were music in themselves. Not of themselves, just the satisfying rumble of plates that, because of God's grace, made homelands and seaports for us, and surprised us with volcanoes. This is a special God.

Special God brings peace, which is a situation of gravity determined by facts distinguished from inference. Inference is when someone thinks of something; implication covers when someone wants to make someone infer. Thus peace, it was someone's idea. O God of someone who had an idea, thank you for the tone poem!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A List of Words

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.
Post a Comment
Read more

The Left of Intention

Blistered arrangement in Obama's plant. That plant is excised with cultured cells looking for the sun. Obama brands name in this stampede, and we leak alert. A new orange smokes upon the evening landscape, parlance for yesterday, then blue over the gushing land today. Stay happy with Obama, or paralax, or the motion across the kitchen floor, of something. Something secret leaves the hives. Something secret seeks the plant. The plant is poised like anything. Tussle continues, with new verbs vectoring the continuation. Obama bravely last the night, sweatshop slogan. Our President, haply, but effort contorts all known regions of meaning. The South, for instance, the West, the North and its East, and so on, dilations. There was a lake above. A blue and now it is shining morning lake. It was above, like the cat, or even more, when we are attuned. Obama battles with all words, Even as the proposition institutes some collision hardly to be compelled. All this exceeds ramifications. Our Pr...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Citizen Would Leave

  Across lean tar pits of localised conveyance, news from sadly nowhere and other quackery. The entire rich crunch vibrates to the center, where stopping begins. Look where the adjectives go. The people as multiplied assumption and ducking away show causation by tumbleweed drift. Moral code exists as prosecution, pronounced as caring. Nuclear rocks decompose, discompose. Stictures from the one god populates the beaten numbers between us. We can all die with advantage to hear the startling judgment. The bonfire of Babylon made happiness exist. We cannot squeeze more love from this rock. Donald’s day has spoken, mellifluous tar.
Post a Comment
Read more