The tribal long
grasses of firm autumn pre-describe an initial point. Valid in most
states, formless in function, they prepare the user for the diversity
of offense. Winter bears no questions, violet iceberg. Today starts
the endless aptitude test with variant rugs on the cursive floor.
This is becoming language, tho we regard ourselves as sane. Accept
the natural loss of poised sentences, words can’t employ meaning in
this need. Words have only dental notes of identity, cooperating
justly with the affluently dead ideas on which they were based. We
can elect all we want. A tribe still needs a blank page whereby
actual constructs of logical impetus tell lizard the time of day.
This time of day is lame.
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.
Comments