When mushrooms dance, only mystery prevails. The sound of earth in dire network returns a useful word. Mushroom spoors deliver delicate shape note song but it remains optional to hear. Even groundlings receive the touch of dark fertile find. Death contracts into a lesson on how business works. Nothing seems so available as spoor built for speed because nothing can be properly spared. Ground resurfaces at the buoyant point of growth, with great mathematics as proof. In swath and rood the spoors engage premium enterprise. Unions have proclamated the hyphae of mycorrhizal fungi joining with plant roots, almost like understanding. To grasp that means that brick there, and some full tilt bosses. In our dream, love has not yet lost.
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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