Rasputin was great the fire the beard the legend of rearing application and those eyes plus poison as the cure for poison the ways of polity in a crushing society he fed the breeze of theology to lovely definiteness and surely Ladies which is only good news as Mother Russia starves or radical and anyone can be swayed toward the ritual of graceless enemy the throng of theory propelled by a certain grease and ascertains elaborate confirmations of character dreck while foreseeing the rise of sinking culture parlayed to historical effect within the steel-girdered mysteries of a trodden populace for whom the vision or burden of monstrance becomes the colllective itself and a fine meal for Tsar and family until other molecular arrangements occur in the future of sinking past
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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