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Effectively, I Write the Next Thing

I have no time for tractors , says the melting ice of persona. Pansies insist on springtime, but time marches with elephants. There, an elephant full of referent. The quality of articles of confederation seizes one (singularly). What is a constitution, by the way, any way? Asserted some colour beyond the aroma pouf noise? Magna Carats contain many words. Children signify advance, despite how stupid they are. Children of King John laid a trap, and the clinging advanced into greatness as brother Richard swept the field of stray life. He bought a mobile home. It was called capture. It rolled into a future full of crab cakes. Crab cakes = starfish: invasion-prone. Are you a telephone anymore, royal exertion? The next paragraph becomes a stanza, and writing says poetry. You who read must die, trying.

Occupy Provincetown, The End of Massachusetts

A prompting tower in the distance, remembers the sea. The sea itself, itself. Braveheart, in the classic visible zone, savours the moment, applied to swaying. Pilgrim Monument, swaying moment. The wind above the sand of Cape Cod invents a town called Provincetown. Angry Scots sever English heads free. Pilgrims stop a moment, deciding to begin. Pilgrims require artifice, obviously. Sentences require verb. Verbs without nouns stop short of a picture. Remember that the tower in Provincetown stands as high as you thought. It stands on a hill, add that figure. It requires memory to see the tower; monuments live outside. Time is a function demonstrating the passage of time. We never stop, even when Braveheart cries freedom, or dead Englishman. Ben Franklin killed George III, it was not pretty. He cried freedom, pretty, but avail. Time has frozen in the time taken to say FREEDOM. People await. A sentence begins with a capital letter. The world begins anew. Provincetown begins with Braveheart ...

Respect the Owners

In the past, a future existed. Its terms firmed around old things. New things brought taste. Taste steers ships. Ships even out, making news when they are terrific. These status reports prepare us for intervals of success. Death makes a nice boundary, after which bookstand information blends into a bison that influences the past. Finally a bison on a hillside, or the rumble of many. This advantage of need, it curves the world to self-satisfied distinction.

The Practical Citadel, Please Come See Me

True Thomas the Rhymer, amidst violin plea, feels the time. Edges belong to interest. Steve Jobs in life writ letters of commerce, in cattle runs of categories. We were well suited, no kidding. We read the vindication. They saw neither sun nor moon, but heard the roaring of the sea. Violin is a playground. Do you see yon narrow narrow road, the road to righteousness? We’ve been Palin in the field. The carnal equivalent to righteousness is ______: words, factions, barter, stemming from. Come along with me, general attitude, field days as spells of vibrancy within the logic of a growing concern. The dead in Afghanistan sustain the truth of being dead. Class function data base.

King John Made England and Ireland

It was a time to delapidate. Rental of fobs had plummeted. Official tweaking began in the night, when readers of Wordsworth were relishing the final stanza. Page 703, they found, included more than could have been expected. This vice grip, then, promulgates a new Wall Street. It had to, we were ready to party. Experts in reality shows have seen an uptrend in diligent self-reference, added to a nearness to crowds. People do not talk so much about orangeade now, as if change we always good. Extra fobs were discovered in strange places, and this economic godsend helped implement a resurgence of wide suspenders. The striped tie, too, saw expansion to new markets, such as trees. Trees have always been big in suspense, and it is fun to see the transience of their endless lives. Page 704 of this Wordsworth collection predicted settlement of an unnatural colour. Hunger remains its own species. The drama of delineating the last appeal while underlining the best potshots in the Constitutio...

It Wasn’t Your Choice

The running sky poised history on a drop of rain. This infinite particle prompted a delicate kernel of corn to receive, thru lofting visions. Autumn in New England includes corn, pumpkins, apples, and craning. Skateboards make assuring noise as sunlight crowds the vagaries. Time vanishes. John Adams listens to Abigail, in a time whirl scattering dicta. Days become more days, and the Constitution is writ. We wondered what the meaning of the day could be, when Federalist met the local domain. Nobody dried as the rain began to fall. Empathy sorts the people. Will we curve in the history of some flat practical land, or will we satisfy desperate ignorance with a trace of prominence? The scud of clouds includes a moving time. Look at the film. Children have been lost, frittered to resistance. This seems like Monday. A balcony promotes a king, but look. The tea party blamed the workers slyly. You know where your government leaks. Sputter language, when you can. It seems less than likely that ...

Mein Kampf is Bigger than Yours

The doctor rounded the corner, saw a patient. This is my lucky day , said the doctor. America is light with fulcrums and remedially reading. Ducks call off the attack while swans swing to the rhythm of the water upon which they float. Today is a desperate practicum , said one doctor, with the appropriate dictionary reference highlighted. The others agreed. We write a tendency , said the lead doctor. Other doctors joined in, temperately contained and radiating from certain facts. If this were my government, mused one doctor, and left the comment unfinished. A sudden call from Insurance Company, night time again,