Who doesn’t know the word for carbolic rinsed thru appetite: a single bland unblinking word in the middle source. Just another way vocabulary jumps thru invisible hoops. Examples are automatically compiled, Babylonian, with carved rocks and stretching toward the linguistic horizon that nativity seems to forget. All agreed when it’s the land, not the simple shock troops of cloven history. Brian Boru died while pushing Norse warriors out of Ireland without expiating a single of your sins. You and me and the Nile Delta spread agreeably and another good harvest was assured until Hittite invaders proved discouraging, their gods were quite a mistake. Nonetheless the word ratchett had to be invented to explain a simple mechanical device and foster a sense of making sense that can be written in sandstone. Wars have always been a rich luxury and shadow game of progress. They have been cited plentifully ever since and before. In good times, grain would be stored for future emergency, in bad times, it meant fires delivering smokes to heaven. Abiding in the land for land, motile guff for the nuclear sentence, the people rose clumsy statues dedicated to Calumny and Backpedaling Steadiness. Figureheads became famous.
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.
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