revenue gathers in a swish of imagination. borders expand to the glory of the beneficent deities who favour, be cause glory sustains. Donald hears all this from the edge, the desperate cue, which constitutes a mapping of em bodiment and rationalized strike zone (here’s the pitch, man!). mean while Sargon’s inevitable Army crosses heartland land to find the munificent and consuming heart of the matter.: tribal down beat with emphasis always on the sentence. Donald saw the sky once. out of reach, opaque and inconclusive. no no chance of involument. his grasp only holds the hard stuff that collects on earth stone slums. un redacted is just the boost he gets. he wants to go home some day, supremely proud and vexed. The sun is not exactly up gradually the different views coalesce around the middle of what we call and donald came thru the shell a broken
poems, fireflies...