The stars were then great, there, as perspective. The sky, great, hung there in scudding relief. Ocean news and great. Land close and far, great. The things, so many looking strong and important, were great, cardinal. The sensible voices spoke, rang, plodded, seemed intently literal, great. Each event fell into time. Looking hard, in need, still and great. Feeling inspired to be inspired, in need. The imminence of sound, which always becomes speech, looked needy and great. To whom speech, and from whom, or what. Alignment in circling serious, now then there where. Dance could strike up, like noise. Noise frames instance. Promulgation stirs. The stars are great, serving. The sky is great, the grass is great, the water moaning is great. Bring sacred taste along the lines. Bring that step dance while you’re at it. Great as great is great, each word greatly greater. In the end, you may begin, great compact lit.
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.
Comments