Xenophon as man, as legend, as topic, as effort, as known. He was has was the words last. Ways exist to understand wherein floating Shit Creek memory so, for the years there were. The Persians had internecine straits to resolve. Organize! Attribute! Verbs of constant warlike reminder float like roses. Ask the victims for clarity. Be clear in the little berries of words registering plans and reactions. Till then appease and tired again. Imagine having to listen to Socrates, an historical figment of common stature. Imagine speaking to Cyrus the Younger on a plane of severe angles. Thymochares arrived from Athens with a few ships. It is said the battle hugged the strand.
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