Much was new in Paris universities in 1969. Signs filtered thru intention, extreme weight loss in strictures, potent conversion rights, grey stone building brightly available, the undue but over rich noise. So ramparts filled proverbially, lexical lines drawn to engaged students and enraged hermetics. So prompting was 1969 light, moon available, liberal stanzas. Beat fills sails, church bells thud ludic moon. So dainty of history, so prologue. Paris happened in 1969, with ingrown specifics and vegetive language. A headache never changed. Had no electricity, only candles and the brakeman’s duffel bag. Sack cloth, and little else blurring celebration.
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.
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