Simple Theories

 let/go the sign doom pastorale doom generation doom wholeness and light doom All in the peopled plan of cross and sentient trickle for the sport of margin and depiction Deplete louse of cull Hold true to the unsevered beam

  among the words Buddha left  behind see the opposite of Buddha  Green planet Scudding In a minute  After all The smoke Moves  To other words the World moves  Toward nothing else and Probable cause

  Typically  a poem measures 8x10 in familiar units while weighing up to 10-12. A poem’s promoted weight, however, never matches universal standards; consumers rarely look for more. Indices prove hazy when in reference to vital states of mind. One can only hope for newer-styled vantages and lessees with equitable programs to bring fabulist content to the fore, thereby redeeming glacial impulses of each outburst in a work-study. Further horizons lurk in the sequestering impulse to execute practices of hayfields and rosy dawns slinking with nourishing dew, causing the chess pieces to fall into place. No sabotage can be too sweet. We shall all remember attempts to release the pride of angels, only to consecrate a sour dough. Established vacancies arise as new order while each penned poem composes itself in constituted sequence. Only timely consequences, vented thru rupture, can ease the certainty of reward. Dolour as a pump secures the direction. All patients must heed the warnin...

  river we get it, be happy in space, ex tort bay dream, slink club that pour funk bias collection, conjure wacky boy contusion while all is amidst, the written poem is just an excuse

  uncrushed in reference to the instinct of language forest clearing so the sun and a moment passes social parvenu as threnody in the time it takes clustering the spirit of adjective nerve crow center let wealth decide

  I like words shadows for shadows  I like words shadows meting  I like words stone for stone shadows  I like words after tonic note shadow I like words of shadow greening  I feel fielded in the green post shadow

  assorted instances surround in mismatched green and purple we  we rise to inform storm clouds the delectable vacancy of greed spurs new rationale yet our hands touched in history and we still could just try  the patent of our personal endeavour the beam of our light when we say one to one look and see and then see ing plains of bison