America the once grew cloven as young and thrift were documents. The piece of thinking always sags but towers are an idea. And when the wake starts, portion control and how the moment spreads magazines of instant after effects. The road goes family till the risk of something, glorious for a taste of sport. John Ashbery told no one of this plain. We must read the radio. The radio, the radio, my dead mother. Father’s Benny Goodman had a drummer for a map.
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.
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