That grain, seed, granule, presumption, of sand. Sargon fabulous in increase, a force in shoes. The world with legendary names, and sand. Proprietary, as well as sand. Ashurbanipal also. Reaching for the force of sentences, even-paced word at a time. This was, but now always. The earth bears the splendor of this bespoken. Sargon reaches for the speck, the crisis of need. A tiny withholding felt by all. The stridulous moment, unbending, allotments: a forest for the fate of cities. And so what passes for people beseeches what passes for gods. All that Ashurbanipal in one human containment field. In this calculus the sand seems perplexing, merely a world before and after Sargon, who lived before and after something Nebuchadnezzar. Sargon hustings, sorting, picking, scratching at words tabulated long ago by stretches of impulsive brilliantine illuminated on a map amongst galaxies or lesser grains of sand and standing. Knee high in neap tide, as the music note by note scratches the air after all. Sun and moon at right angle as the ocean is pulled back. Sargon no less a name than.
It begins with a scanning of light, a settlement of words. The lightly fracture of Bird sound begins in the office of seeing. Not sentiment but sense, as cool as Green in the Early days. Pasture resists nonpasture, no one Refers to none. All remains including nothing. Morning Is belief and there simply there. Tides go freshly to the point.
Comments