Simple Theories

Too much light or heavily in the realm of sentence. Position closes with facts or data, or an emotion nodule. Words work, there. The force is farce as we remind ourselves, our chemical includes something. Each word on the merrie day rides something thunder. or perhaps the sentence after the sentence. Writing is the time between the people that are the time, except people don’t exist. Only the stable idea that stable ideas exist keep the inferences in line.

The practice, the rations, the ratios, until the greyest of streaming clouds purport, yes, purport some preying thought, forest powers, alluvial light. Namesake intends the exceptions. Simple stars alert colours. We have this way together, all of us, and the simplicity of saying words. We have words for a reason. We have reason for a word. In the least green of difference, as time takes and music holds, no colour more than any other.

Today in the tremendous town. Today in the bleak past participle. Today the final what are your shoes doing? Today the friend of the friend spoke wisdom. Today honest parking in consequential spaces. Today the dotage of town. Tomorrow the moon struck a pattern of sorrow, month after moon month dialogue. Tomorrow we hold the day back. Tomorrow we saw the ease of sliding past. Tomorrow we were only there today. Yesterday the television smile contest. Yesterday while winking. Yesterday the spelling will be better. Yesterday those onions of reproach will satisfy a presidency. Yesterday feels townships rights. Any day gathers the any town of what we were to have to need to want to bring to the seeing of our life. Tractors provide tractors. The map reads racist pauper, dig language, aptitude pause. We are only one, step at a time.

Sky, with versions of coloured animals, bright sunshine elbow room. A place inside that name for doubt, perpendicular to the advice of strangers. Catalogue of catastrophes, with slung motivations adding television. Perfection of pizza in the blood while lasting for the end. Exact retirement plan in plain racist terms. Clerk function in just voting for topic sentence. Dialogue with out-of-date. Turning to football’s majesty. Torquing for the vast function inside the little desire. Someone’s yelling, again: tone poems can’t function.

The sight of the star was the site of the star. We aren’t children. The sight was the star’s light. Literally is how words fail. There is no light. There is lightness. Today is left. Present indicative of be is left. Audiences paid to see a big screen. It tells the story of a movie.

The children as people, as possible in the ranks, as the verb to lord closes a condition, as tornado in the mouth of many, as plainsong long ago, as rhythm based on rhythm, as fortunate enclosures, as land mine destinies, as open soreness, as seeming thru the peerage, as poking all the wound, as time spent over anxious, as boon and bust magma, children, the town, the way they talk that is almost our talk, as we feel our completion (in the throne room and deli), potent sensible except children, not the full town, only the edge of town, these children who can listen not exactly speak, not the trump of winning but the quietly there, here is there for children, when remember, the door. Door completes the picture. We open doors to close.

Opiates are great, we live on their steps. We look back on their day, the waving light beams beaming our way. Our way is a right way, with gloss on certain words. A sentence begins this way: Terrific towns of land, the verb to go, the land mines of nouns called people, sweat logs and purple sage, the gasping aspiration left on doorstep by the dinner bell, periods of empathy marked by patterns of neglect, pious organdy stasis, feldmarschal feelers, lateral train, town lines and more towns, the factions that said faction first, and voter registration. Meanwhile, a lasting impression, discussion of doubts, something in the middle pushed to the side, flecks of apple leaf in the organic autumn wind, a sort of drought like the death of some strange empty void without victims.