August 21, 2012 – ayaladn

there is the purposed sett, there is the monument, theirs, a simple settle, there, in that , they met; therein is the mystery, there is no whispering, ‘ there is a silence, sir ‘

& as my family is man, why does ‘ another autumn rose, ‘ astonish me?

theory, ‘ is it? ‘ therein if its unrest from downtown to datumdatatowns today, tuesday & a week-end ‘ is it? ‘ now ‘ whatever ‘, so they say, & mother, may-eyed, willingly assents, ‘ that’s strange ‘

grammars’ eschatology, ‘ starts as censor ends in arsony, ‘ and yet, escarpments grapple or compel us to the sands, our enurnings, aul varieities over-riotous, the well-kin sum with spades & kitharas

several yrs the plains cut ‘thru ‘where’s the Barbary, man? where’s the atlas stand?’ ‘he’s reading labels, as he can,’ I said, once, ‘& tears them often off,’ loitering the hillslide