Simple Theories

the opulence of these days shifts the entire planet and the words settled between each. news favours the lilt of examination in child form, straight to wondering. actual people exist. clocks perform radical distress while modular explanations create boundaries. perplexity funds expression. no answer continues the sentences, only sparkly sparkly what. in exchange for the presumptive practice, the entire global congress seeks buttery softness and telecom. ritual produces lengthy wince and richest forgetting. children then and now see a city out of surge and sentiment and look at the moon butting clouds until the sun butts clouds. forever.

for the nation of of lost things of statute as statue and bungalow rules of sentence as structure of of scanting and demograph of underwater pooled of of Some preposterity

who put all these tHings in your review like Word? Bank sentence beginning with harmonium. Leaping Edifice faction a partial town. The residue Of cleaving political Leaving. Why don’t we sing this song all together. Why don’t we  Earn this town the Children. radical influx of Denatured NAtion. Random respects attenTIoN. The scout Of all function.Opens Our heads. Why don’t we Sing this song. This the this, song the song.

The rectangular slab which constitutes the uppermost element of a column capital exudes growing debate in tune with labyrinth rock. Tendrils meet tendrils in the earth, trees remain sore. Ice participates in non-ice factors, the life of indication. So Waves in undulant refrain, and portals glowing for the tune. Our hands seem reasonable in the cool light. We have this time and this is the time. Words will finally fly.

to the moon of seen things and sentences enjoying that place of got time, to the place of wilding reading, to the place of town with children gaining light times, give joy or a curate come to speak words fined and darted, words plain and return, words without the city plans but sighted in the midst of us

I didn’t realize America was so far away rosebuds collected in memory the Beartooth Mountains from the beginning language like thought in misery of politics going on from afar

Winds blow cold in the dawn of climbing. The hill before the morning steadies in veil while the townsfolk—they invented Plymouth Rock—their sleep is a pasture. The deeds of lurking and obsession still the rivers, rivals campaign. The hill is bare of knowledge, Cold in token. Death becomes the faction of seed while snow remains cold. No farmstead bursts into bloom tho burning homes are known. No one can see the hilltop now, only choices for a simple day. The language of this fits everyone, in testate and loss.  The even stones become clear as words upon a bough. The hill is an afterthought of sunrise.