Simple Theories

in my town, we bend unlikely things into furniture. this is a signal for our locale. I could tell you where I live, but wouldn’t that diminish the thrill of your consideration, that such specified a place exists? with our power given softly, dreams here flutter agreeably. as testament to this, the citizens of this town (located pragmatically to the north of Brockton, Massachusetts), speak oddly, with gruff, whispery voices full of concern. I find myself writing similarly. you grip this, I hope. I mention all this by way of musing introduction to my point, which simply is: people dispel landmarks because they are named. here is one name: ¬¬¬¬___________. this name is an invention determined to prove empirical at some late date. the person attached disowns sundry models of efficiency for the sake of a bruising heretofore. friends, say with me: let him. he doesn’t know that the sombreros of old were hazy reminders of a bolder sun. vague armies marched into Mexico and other ...

Eric Clapton, I mean, all days, it was a song, and Jack Bruce, tho today dead, and that’s persistent, and you know that Ginger Baker made noise. Oh today isn’t May Day, the scripture of strike force righteous remembrance of imaginary events that feel like music, so that now, with words saying something's missing exactly, actual tigers discuss unbelievable Wall Street. We are the guest star of the dim, get used to it.

Bitter Is a memory Like Most Topic Sentences. The Island increases The deletions.     Is it really proper To accept Pronouns As they are?

The town with its very children, not solely the flight of anger into minutes tellingly. Not that finishing of sense as business, a President in parade. The children are the town and we will help. We will let them hold rocks and reach at clouds, we will help them. We will read little books of everything to them, and tell them ponds exist. We will just say look again, anyone said a frame of thing, and feels the world as well.. A President in parade says any useless thing to stay still in saying President President. President lost the town the children just by that.

From the tree that enters the less simple leaf, from the town that enters the exhuming cloud, from the tactic that leaves the data, from the each as every, with scores of violence, or just language in its dogged rock, so simple the previous declension, a ride of decline for the moderate haze, keeping sentences as relaxed perimeter until we can speak again, newfound ejecta along a simple road of diary and distraction, alert after words but not before: Savour the different avenues while speaking, then, now, at least, speak

Startling, the weird world between usual. Logical fatback and president derelict in simple saving word. Hides know in reeds like dead last name. People in charge equal light haze over Sentence structure. Gyre Deep pattern, spotted frog. Middle of a poem means the end of any word,

Maybe narrative produces new trees or sunlight planets. The people talk like that. Europe feels freshness in some of the letters. Some letters make words of people. Thus a story grows. The question arises and how much time in the posturing reliquary that we voted for saints. The saints have tv. Articles about It exist. In Every case, dogma means alibi.