Thursday, December 11, 2008

Gospel Honor

Before tea, the zafu. Working on our walk stands behind me. Just turn the forest trying to dance.

The dog wants his down off high places. So I have never stopped writing, so what? Those drunk not holy scratch for calcium.

A man told north shouldn't try. Called out thirteen and no answer. Gospel honor and disbelief at the window.

A purse of glowing stones. The sound alone over shunned religion. Lean shadow of an apprentice.

After a fight has quality otherwise settling everywhere. Anger is hungry at 4 a.m. Quiet village work that loneliness.

Why a broken fish? You struggle to get fall apart. Late January bone house.

Yesterday still going apples in clutter of history. All this way for a broken vernacular.

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