Skip to main content

Spring

 As winter fades according to moonbeam schedule and the effects of clomping dances, the jump-back kick rises again in the blood of bungee jump impromptu. Pure temerity asserts a ravaging pace to tree sap. Zoom makes the marvel of zoom. Nothing else happens but days grow longer despite time remains as static and indifferent as ever. Your dot moves slightly. The skulk of birds in the new variety of sky sends cinders of provident words into such roiling mayhem that an Easter of beyond bunnies arises. Local spinneret yields exactly olfactory replete. Someone the world mowed excess, replete, and joyful nothing simpler. Smack words in the total, you earned the seminal rite to put snow shovel black in mind gathering sorting. Gavels for Ganesha champions and seed time. Look you, the wastrel dandelion plants itself. Your turn would seem to follow but you need the extravagant texts left everywhere for confirming and idolized proceeding. The jump-back kick now solemnly proffers, books you have read. And not reading by the failed points of reading you read now, and to the point, pointed directly at the symbol of perhaps. A mighty fortress is our ga.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Words

  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.

A Child’s Proletariat Garden

  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.

A Screed Left Town

  Inside the excuse for nation: leafy tractors (any bonding to the brownness of earth will do). A day’s march from the next day’s march, the love amongst us on a map. The map shows citadel, city in a dell, and abounding fields. The trees have effort to contend with. Bears chuff to excess in a workfarm spring. Something tall rises on the plain. Mills confirm the need for rivers. Troops stop where the food is. Terror provides the function for non-terror, in zones described as war-like. Pictures become words for people sighing. One sees a lack of food, or especial jewels, or the need for frocks made from bison. Another tower seems important for a nation’s existence, one taller than might. It will seem like tradition. You and I are left to explain.