American drama -- 20th century; Experimental fiction, American; Prose poems
It was a strange name that which when a record of a lucine and naughty
bent made it by that that nearly any excellent shade of night glasses
made a pleasing and regular hair.
A wet syllable is we are, a wet syllable is we are we in.
A Spanish water and a coop shape mine and legs and reed ridiculous red,
and little lively hue, little lively hue and copper, little lively hue
and copper up.
ENGLAND
Leave off more time than the hope which assures the rent of a custom,
the sweetness is not only there it is the reason left and monkeys are
not merry. If you do have the eyes blue and the hair the color then it
is easy to see the hands.
All along and the day, the prize is not driven and the selecting of all
the coal is that.
All the while is light and cleaning is not repetition. If you see the
chance then spring again and if not be extreme, be certain that the show
has that line in line and do not, never, see the patent desert the
measles.
So the cloth is alright and the carpet is English. Pink and the moon,
that sweet sugar is brown.
Cane sour asparagus and do not season with reason. Certainly the union
of oxygen with ostriches is not that of the taught tracer. It is not a
window that has an elastic it is planted gutta percha.
The change is not plain seeking, the hills are not dislocated and the
cluster has not the name of the intermediate beginning.
To paste more attention on a bridge is not the path that is taken. All
of it is planted. The blossom is pealing, the tender dew is green, the
presence is in the time in between, the sacrifice is that that the bell
which rings has a clapper. The pleasure in the use is not so dreary but
that there is an exchange.
One sees a custom, one sees a date, one sees a potatoe, one sees a
caterpillar, one sees more particulars than kissing, one sees the blame
distributed, one sees more than any one.
Powder and food, union and despatch, so that there is no pale color, so
that there is black, so that there is much preperation of a return to
the same.
If a little meadow and a tree have that use and a morning and the west
wind have that use and the evening and the continuation have that use
then there is no use when the sing song ends rising.
Yes there is the same. There is all of that which makes it certain that
something is what is there and not misplaced. This means that to be
different there is not any place that is the same and if the whole place
is there then it is not alarming it is confirming. This is so shrewdly
what is proven.
Bailing the center of a spot and not having an embankment is not the
only way to flirt. So soon, so left without a spoon, so august and so
strange and taller than every other, it is not astonishing that some one
is older.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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