Thousands of people, millions, then more as more have waited. They cared to exchange one for one, as if one were not the entire haul. Their place remains as sand, stories, additional sand, stories of sand, peopled sand, sand people, and just sand. The lord arranging this created ineffable as a function for dilation and emancipation. Are we not rocks at heart? Rocks were meant to say more by handsful of weight and mass, sand is just the proper easing encumbrance. Mass introduces a wider world, where impact and resonance pulse heavy and light. Even light grows heavy in its strokes of passage. Something said now remains said, the ever faithful sand. The saying remains in the buckling sand underfoot. More can be made less but sand endures.
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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