The Eastern Cottonwood has triangular leaves, a booming voice, crazy catkins, and a happy smile. In the freshness of spring it pelts the local rood with cottony fluff and direct emanation. When hungry it will lazily consume vast qualities with the sun's benny care. The cottonwood rarely takes sides but involves itself in proper community. It will seem like a stick in the mud come winter's frore blast but spring brings a seasoned boost that sends the tree a-singing for months of years and years of months. Remain secular as you approach cottonwood, let your toes be roots. Hold fast sans dogma and trite, as you caprice with cottonwood, the gods will gift you a scholarship of colloquy and flowing spin.
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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