The current Administration, clouded and venal, offers nothing to the compassionate world. Reject the stance of dramatic anger at the world's vigorous rush. We are not children on this speck of dust, we are words of leaning in the light. We need no tokens and television control. We need only say yes to the words of her mouth, they are the same ones seen in the dark of our dying. We can taste a caring that doesn't make the singular mistake. That party of affliction is no longer that party, just bounds of hurt from the weight of anything. Anything is not a distance but changing flight to only delight. Only the one of world is won. We are the same turtles, stones, flies, and attention as ever.
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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