American drama -- 20th century; Experimental fiction, American; Prose poems
She was brought up by her mother. She had meaning and she was careful in
reading. She read marvelously. She was pleased. She was aged
thirty-nine. She was flavored by reason of much memory and recollection.
This is everything.
Foreword.
I cannot believe it.
I cannot realize it.
I cannot see it.
It is what happened.
First there was a wonder.
Really wonder.
Wonder by means of what.
Wonder by means of measures.
Measuring what.
Heights.
How high.
A little.
This was not all.
There were well if you like there were wonderful spots such as were seen
by a queen. This came to be a system. Really it was just by a treasure.
What was a treasure. Apart from that.
Surely.
Rather.
In their beginning what was a delight. Not signing papers or anything or
indeed in having a mother and two sisters. Not nearly enough were
mentioned by telegraphing. It was a choice.
I ramble when I mention it.
Did she leave me any money.
I remember something.
I am not clear about what it was.
When did I settle that.
I settled it yesterday.
Early Life.
They were not miserably young they were older than another. She was
gliding. It is by nearly weekly leaning that it comes to be exact. It
never was in dispute.
They were gayly not gaily gorgeous. They were not gorgeous at all. They
were obliging. If you think so. If you think so glow. If you believe in
light boys. They were never another.
It came to be seen that any beam of three rooms was not showy. They were
proud to sit at mother. Slowly walking makes walking quicker. They have
toys and not that in deceiving. They do not deceive them. No one is
willing. No one could be cool and mother and divided and necessary and
climatical and of origin and beneath that mean and be a sun. It was
strange in her cheek. Not strange to them or that.
A young one.
Not by mountains.
Not by oysters.
Not by hearing.
Not by round ways.
Not by circumference again.
Not by leaving luncheon.
Not by birth.
It doesn't make any difference when ten are born. Ten is never a number.
Neither is six. Neither is four.
I will not mention it again.
Early days of shading.
Make a mouse in green.
Make a single piece of sun and make a violet bloom. Early piece of
swimming makes a sun on time and makes it shine and warm today and sun
and sun and not to stay and not to stay or away. Not to stay satin. Out
from the whole wide world he chose her. Out from the whole wide world
and that is what is said.
Family.
What is famine. It is plenty of another. What is famine. It is eating.
What is famine. It is carving. Why is carving a wonderful thing. Because
supper is over. This can happen again. Sums are seen.
Please be polite for mother. Lives of them. Call it shall it clothe it.
Boil it. Why not color it black and never red or green. This is
stubborn. I don't say so.
No opposition.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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