note black people like scullion and detour. white people seem to tip, as provocation or provenance. yellow people remain arctic residue, like cousins of temperate sun. red people soon filter forest or stones. brown people assume torsion, and we begin to see sliding treble to fine noise. exact people slurp and buy highways. rivers fill with exultant patterns, green people, orange people, purple as profound. red reasonably assumes green anyway. colours sound ridiculous when you think of pandas. stopping before going usually works tho humans no more ready. within the trees, after all, the staple of trees. the sun fills with words, as if that could matter.
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.
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