Simple Theories

The explain deep shill off present mountain time, off the coastal presence of listen gravity. Sometimes in the spelling of lesser words a secret pavement stern for you. Angry doctoring of last night’s morning, spoonfed after memory losing. Let her go we say after time. but time remains before us. Let him go, in that naked thing of all, but time remains before us. Time lives like words only words need time. What time is the last word, only fitting news. Poetry pieces, together. Donald Trump tried to call.

The colour red sent money, leave it at that. Sky autumn full of blue that will be remembered as one day after a word. Make that wiord again. The colour red made money, bits of earth brown and something well you just know. Green stacked high even as leaves fell to the tune of rain. On yesterday, that is, when rain will be rain. Today is now sun, the fat part of our thinking. Thin night thinks, but we are too thin then. The colour blue made a ramp into the air, on which many followed for something. These are days and some nights, and all together we need station. Look how words have spread across the field. We aren’t tractors any more, just pieces of distracted thought. Yellow sun sleeps with a mouse. Orange enjoys the daze. It says here, yesterday we will give each other a chance. That doesn’t mean standing there with your mouth, your shadowed mouth. Today is the tender time of day. Try to make something.

The town is perfect, it climbs in rate of exchange. It has a city in its dreams, dreams of city seeing. Seeing multitude as a tone, and vision as a plaint, the town is tons by standards. We are the people pieces of the town that settle to the city, vision as a plaint. The workers, the sleepers, the people fill the streets. Each word they say fills the words they didn’t say. We arrive in plenty looking at the streets. Our plenty fills the streets, filling city with the town. We step our words closer or far, for reasons of the sun. The city is a perfect climb, perfect plaint, perfect look how we can climb. The town is only people only stopping some, only eating some, only talking some, but city in the day. Not Donald, dear ones, improbable and zilch. Not that faction filling rivers darkly. Not that lone and speaking vice of secular remaining but what about when we just put hands together? What is a river saying now that it hasn’t said before? Only rivers talk, ...

The adjective came the mouth passing shifting to the all, adjectives were the crisis. They tell the range and colour, weight and hate that measure. It makes him him and him. That way the adjective that doesn’t do. It is the sentence before it can say. It is a sentence of surface tension lying. Let us think again. Adopt a business plan beyond business. Let actual colour mean light not response. The picture means the picture, not the left toe marching to the right. We heard enough last night the day before. He has hit on something flat and seeming, just the angry nature feeling way. Excuse the sentence for being said. We were here tomorrow. How he rose is partly sentence, partly rain could make things better. Colour goes deeper than just that naming. Colour colours light.