Namely the grasses, the sedge, and the rush, each marvelous with stellar Latin names and skillful deviation. They all just rise from the earth with hearty cheer and chatter. Sure, your lawn pokes your embattled front with automatic burden but you fell for that one and the metal motor. Meanwhile grasses march about the livelong, tucking into here and there and snorting. Think of the herbage setting up in a sidewalk crack. Name that numeral fun because it holds the life and spree. Tall grasses wave in the wind with pristine glee and you haven’t mindful grazed all day. How many of your stomachs do you deny as you fix yourself with strictures? Any grass enjoys overcharge, love blast of light in preening certain herbage. Cut grass smelling of a trending turmoil means open your eyes now. The great landscape awaits your sulky prominence. Further pragmatics can now be subtly unsealed.
From the thing itself, beyond seasoned aptness. Life is like living but blurred by you were listening. Aspect ratio telemetry in myriad languages smooth as rocks approaches time to look. Words piece together things or things find words. Endlessness is a choice, written big in words as shiny as geese. Words simply take the time in radiation and radical point. Stein wrote the heft of nothing special, start there or whatever. You can slowly adjust the franchise, commodity's inner workings. Subglacial quips, subliminal washouts, frantic azure in the breeze of frosty Friday: these special sparking hallways slyly enjoin. Maybe you read too much into reading too much. Further on is where you’ll stay.
Comments