Simple Theories

we think we are making inroads, then the bear walks down the hill. is it spring already? definite clouds give way to ephemera of roads based on memory. Renaissance music fills the rood in which we walk, while a galloping bear prepares the year for spring. it has wrestled with the majority and hunkered down. now is a pleasant concept, devised in a language. we go on in the language. trifles of crocus send dogma packing, patches in the clouds form rescue league. diurnal plectrum, modest increment, political quark, and all these reasons to trust. a dusting of sunlight lays smartly on the early grass. sullen children with their numchucks resist bailout offers while seminal scalawags reap status alerts on Facebook. Jennifer Aniston arises in the bedded morn to speak of dark and wonderful things. her Agamemnon is like no other. justice scouts plenty and decides. voices lift the bandage. the government and all its particles cluster on the finest point. upon this point a team from Facebook ...

Nepal's unrest is a minor distraction , hissed the evil of Fu Manchu. it works the margins, that story . cackle. Sir Denis Nayland-Smith must absolutely tamp the tobacco in his pipe immediately. he receives no bonuses from AIG, where Dr Fu Manchu works part time as a dirge. his part is earnest diatribe, with machines floating in the air for reasons of nefariousness (plumed for future consultation). meanwhile, Madagascar, you could prove human nature by the very citizens who live there. the latest is only the most unprovable.

ritual bear developed a broad expanse. words of its clime sifted thru ripe clouds that sent rain, even to the the human world. dizzying process suffered the pants off of human endeavour. the bear was wild in increments of favour. we read of drastic change, and felt that Afghanistan could stand a chance. Afghanistan is named for the land where the land is. and people people the land. and bears are arguments in the landscape. they play as a river filled with bears searching for ultra shores where blueberries control life. life is savoured in increments of blueberries. nobody dies but a few relatives of Ted Hughes. they read of ends and distances, then see a bear, and the bear runs off. when the bears run off, we lose a farmstead. each bear in the landscape represents one lost farmstead. each lost farmstead is the death of a relativity. the basis of poetry resides in the project of armed forces certifying the troubled landscape in Afghanistan. do we really believe in Afghanistan? it is a ...

the current marsh beams with documents and change. ducks force exact sounds into the argument, which traces simple phrases into pulsating pattern. a poem becomes a constant, blending words into the landscape like leaves and water. ducks subsume, starling and blue jay rent cost effective dowager settlement, the world wakens anew. this swarm of intention brings bold statement from political casuistry to the door of memory. the clang of weed rental outweighs the spoils of dynasty. fences receive admirers. all patterns include one stray note of sharing. language resumes potable conviction since we are stern releases of antic gas. now spring starts anew, piles word upon word. a glimmer remains to relax in, then the shoals beckon ships, or snakes bask in the sun, or many trains of thought pour into the empty. these words that might be poems remain in traction, not debarred but pressed to glass. morning is dark until it finds a portal. portals bring everything, just as every parent di...

there was easily seven in the precipice of township. the shit bags of diunal pulverize stun winking fits on total nostrum. you are punk cost fiddle banshee. with electric clabbering cuckold penchant screen for verisimilitude (just so that you know), the Klingons banter mildly. the gold coast auction panda grumbles on arriviste tunes (tendency shackle). Stalin proves a botch job fungo bat clerical whizbang that just shows to go you

the helicopter sank in daily news, 17 of 18 passengers dying. dying planks the mooring, folds simple people into rushed stream. civilized society draws stripes in power maze, as Saigon falls several times (Dong and Thi fled to Cambodia, while Diem excoriated the United States for a perceived lack of support), like helicopter ditched in provocative sea. android is futuristic, thank Star Trek plantation. a sentence sticks to rules, buoys upon cold sea and the facts thereof. we read of things, hear more, add something called data. Data, the android, was powerful message of how you can stick in the mud. mud is at bottom, where the sunk chopper settled. it no longer chops but creates a place of rest. not really. a poem wants all that entailed, then data for the margins. thus Star Trek, a winning combination of actions and reactions. we learned today helicopter. period.

Jennifer Aniston was a flattened pungency but okay, Donnie Most had flowers. flowers bend to truckle and tone, which damns sentiment and wings fieldstones towards nascent spurge. ranuculus (meanwhile) spoil for a fight, which will include the diametric repetition of Jennifer Aniston walking down the red carpet towards the certainty of slagheap. no other prediction fits the tomb so well. jonquils fritter away in snow, then undulate, and we all go sex bomb. forests are deprived, like normal children, and the wind from moose-ridden Maine collects in bad breath. the world stinks, because it breathes. knowledge base, however, smells like teen spurt, but without the market share. Donnie Most is a heroic dimension of inquiry, fan-based, and a free iPod in the middle. sentences are archaic, like attachment. Saturn is festively ringed by dust and shit, but the tonal message still seems opulent. we will want to collect in Afghanistan and fix up a world. a poem is posh. it wants to be treacl...