The sky occurs low in our manufactured breath. Clouds surprise you, dotting those sentences you prize. It feels like trees in the beginning. The higher sky feeds birds and dust. Further still, the sky lets planets wander. The feast arrives soon and softening. Something in the time between words serves as space. Call it your own, for now. The sky collects dust and rainfall and whatever you think you have. Derivatives occur as a just plan. You have seen the smoke and soot. The sky stiffens into limits, then a cloud. Recitations meander as easily as the filling of storm drains. The sky up there is the sky in there. You can remember that.
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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