In the incredible place beyond the stars and requiem, furtive tho grey edge of a sunset dodge, even include a starburst of red light like something telling. Layers of life explain layers of time, until a town becomes a central theme, like snow melt. Longer than a sentence and with dire vowels to sound, speaking of a place where the water runs, the wind runs, and cooing mourning doves run, these patches of effort become towns with days. Everything displaces the next minute, then protocol reverses the trend. We are nations in the morning trying to explain the bent seasonal smell of these dead leave. Even Dick Cheney is a god unto himself. Introduce yourself to the blanket of your town.
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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