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Brace for Funeral, Call for Peace

Illuminated in dawn light, like a possible grey fortune. Elite fighters with messages for the transom. Outflow of the radical by steps and bounds.

New day in a research grant. The people, as a concept, arrive post haste. Trouble arises in the wavy lines around us.

Proof is a natural affliction. Poor people resist emblems and find change. The chance of a dollar turned over, with a concealed hand full of trust, with waves lapping the parliament, with stones associating with the rapid water, with trials treated as traffic laws, and the natural bend in the river. This is where we stay sometimes.

The notion arises and becomes published. Like a rock it sticks to its confines. Natural deception squeezes thru the trees. Today’s date plants itself in the homestead. Time is only one word after all. After all is a profound mistake.

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