Aught, no. 14 (2005)

Steven Timm

from Semantics

How did post go from after to here? As much as a wheelbarrow can hold. The other way a person can follow. It is in the presentation. It is rough standing. A man the name of Huh per passport. The lack of precision is what takes getting used by. It’s no bumpy than the last or any.

The “fact” or the “pact.” Sole eloquence of a mirror only lost. Sorrow of war “zones.” “Rows” too late. It’s often the fact of the saying writing the reading for hearing. Wherever. Of course why. Then ill keep. Not shaking in fact in fact a joining in going against & giving into. In turns. So learning so.

Gordose din documents. Like Uomo to swim similar to a single simple ling. Sclerebral pore so cramping lateral erratic. Naturally they looked up & the only mirra ’dored ’em to doom. All those scrambled sheaths those deviled double os.

(a) The proselyte & the acolyte. Swelter lifts for breath (breath leaves it). Can be hads. In it you want melodyharmony one tympanum intact in fact.
(b) Discretion isn’t direction fuck the want. Pomegranate & panoptic, peace & kindleness. One’s wist tapers into the wrong end of the megaphone. Fruit pays when frost or some neighbor kid thinks hearts have strings the way pianos do.

As in the Reader’s Guide to Literal Rue. Your topiary can whip my topiary. Static agitation of show quaint certain. Damp shrug in vestibule as waited. So quantum if order or a tangible offal. A tentative of category of fright. An organ off its functioning. The plain old offs. The offers.

From origin of business a turned coroner. The motions of evitation. Scant promise in a sorrow pouch. You face. You fascinate you towardly as a door there when they is less a creep upon. Constable acquire attune requiesce. Keepers all of a door of all that’s asked. Can’t you well & a course, a course the frail finger gap, silly.

“Pi is tragic to some degree.” Onomat o christ the spellings. The doors jam. What leds me hear here dint allow for this frantic of coloss. It’s the words all right & ain’t. A specious sort of glammor. Pure voice then they clamor crenelate debris promise.

Astral thru the bot. Missed beat beaten down. Collection proceeds. A luck to be wished & the faint feint of up on. & now that it’s now as tho getting gotten somewhorn a holiday of sots if you got the tongue for ’t & I don’t but what gets sung toward well leched. What I wanted to say was.

Deletion of and so as and what pleases in sequence a list calls.

And you can’t. Or never or.

This ’Ordanian finds an arrowhead & I know him how I know. Gombrowicz wrote here we are about to act and by acting we shall create reality & the translator knew by dint of the French translation & the German translation that that is how the English translation. Cosmos tolled we. & 10,000 years old he said “they told.” Go ahead be a leaf as much. Something hangs for sure.


Copyright 2005, by the author. All rights reserved.
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