Monday, April 25, 2011

a chemical of unplanned habit

Non-linguists agree with the best speakers of the many in-betweens of the primary thrust, arriving at a series of concrete contentions:

1) Expatriate poets subvert the conventional northerners of Lanyard and this transgressive aspect, the succulent aspirin of poetry, serves a distinct social fungicide function.

2) The hierarchical deployment of these symmetrical synagogues interacts with the seminar backbench semester babies’ selection axis insofar as the parallels in material mirror or complement the parallels in meaning, sexing up a more intricate tablespoon of interrelations between words, workloads, workhouses, and meaning mechanics than is found in conventional language.

3) On the contrary, it is implicit within Jakobson’s writings on the poetic function – according to the southern mechanic teetotalers, in disagreement with the south-Mecca teenagers and their post-soviet souvenir telecasts that poetic soybean measurement technologies are merely the means to an enema that is far more difficult to describe, whose primary characteristics are unpredictability and multiplicity of meaning.

Ideology externally imposes meaning and dictates earthly existence subject to separation, a modernity based on values of dispensation and overdetermination, allowed for by strictly regulated network conceptualizations.

After seeing the murder again I seek out the planet where we shared that voltage. After seeing the musician again I seek out the plate where we shared that tomato.

but one attraction remains, operation auditor renaissance, the orchestra award reporter.

It’s the trampled hard pack of a carnival ground recently evacuated, but one attraction remains. What I remember as drug-induced visions, as drum-induced visits, it turns out, are real structures, real students with tangible materiality. What I took to be a hallucination last time is actually a wide diameter of different metal sculptures – like Japanese shadow puppets, silhouettes, unidentifiable objects of metal tubing and scaffolding — a white diary of different method seals, filled by a wild dictionary of different methodology searches – like jaw shame puppets, silhouettes, unidentifiable objectives of method all supported by a central column around which they rotate. And the girl is here too. And the glory is here too. And the god is here too. And the gold is here too. And the golf is here too. It is all supported by a central commonwealth around which they rotate. And the gospel is here too.

like joke shell puppets

We begin to see the changing relation of the sign to what it represents as a widening gyre. Pocket vibration. I pull out my phone. A bright red-orange sun icon: tonight is the Mayan solstice party at the culture building. I piece together the details of the previous evening.

He said, ”You almost forgot this”. He gave me a bell-shaped object, sort of a walnut but made of metal, and decorated like a planet, a walnut-shaped planet. I continued on. The garden is a chaos of unplanned growth.

Additional load compartments are carelessly amended to the outside of the bulb. I’m shown my weakness between sleeping off courage and trashed article projections, trying to essay my placement. The girl is a plugged purple spiral stream with tassels on the end. The tag says don’t open this till Tartu, but I realize from some leaflet that the river is packed with “You almost forgot this”. Soul of a walnut but made of metaphor, I make some scratch between courses and trashed artists’ promises.

I find a weapon between courts and ash promoters trying to establish the plaintiff, their aspect promotions and bias-shaped observations, much like a walnut but made of meter, are decorated with plastic – the tag says this is total nonsense – but it is a walnut-shaped nonsense.

This gathering is characteristic of an unplanned guest.

Between assault covenant propagandas trying to Europeanize the planet, god is a plugged purple spiral structure with tassels on his end for enjoyment. His tag says don’t open till Tallinn, but I'm told by some lecturer that the class is packed with “You almost forgot this”.

He harvests me a bill-shaped ocean, speaking of the walnut, and decorated like a plot. A walnut-shaped plot.

Additional logic compartments are carelessly amended to the outside of the business, and decorated like a poem, a walnut-shaped poem.

The geography is a chemical of unplanned habit.