Friday, December 5, 2008

Breaching Hippocampus

There was a pounding surf, a pilot whale breaching. Hippocampus in its oblong box was most opaquely. Honor and courage are not just words but then neither are apple and yellow.

Keeping up with, then passing, at breakneck speed, the Joneses. Train sounds that resemble water in the ear. He wrote, at last, again, he wrote.

Beauty wasn't the point but my oh my. Can one ever be truly worthy of the Pileated Woodpecker? The smell of yeast a wet dog.

The fall was not nearly so bad as the aeronauts predicted. So it's a cataclysm you're after. A matter of unrelating albeit.

One holds certain cities in memory forever. Traffic moves slower in inclement weather, headlight straying on the far wall like crayons. Want to get a winter bearing then go?.

And. Does a death sentence concentrate the mind or force a dissembling? Birthday parties in the dark, after much consideration.

What do you want then, after all these years. When at last in the couplet I can say.

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