The month was a short, cold month.
This new poetry was a real month,
but the old months, remembered dimly,
not remembered, were the most
informative.  Reading was like walking,
in contemplation, through the blue light.

As the salamander was strolling through
the hot coals beside the wall, he noted it
was made of brick.  Going around the
edge of the wall, he realized that
salamanders do not fly, yet soon he was

coasting through the air, high above the
place where the birds were flying.  It was
through the clouds.

The amphibious pile of rags, he agreed,
belonged as a stack of books leaned on
shelves against the bricks.  The birds were
hoping feathers would protect the words
from the rain.  The salamander continued
his agreement; the virtual world of the
pages was another place he could breathe
in a medium not intended for general use.

"...Vis centripetae quantitas acceleratrix est ipsius mensura Velocitati proportionalis, quam dato tempore genrat..."
--D. Isaaci Newtoni.

Centipedes wobbled, hugging the ground, and they could expect only a few kindly moments, where the doctors watched to confirm their beliefs circling specific ideology, advancing the territory, dramatic, where the strength remained in proportion to that, which time generated by the flapping, dark wings in the cold, grey sky.  There, also, flew the doves; a friendship between them indicated significance.  The cold was hunger, around which, twirled an illusion.

spin q ( _ ) d w = < { [ poem log P ( w ) d ( y ; N , Z ) d r ] / ( d t ) } + K > .

As they wrapped themselves in a ball of tender arms, for the winter, they were spinning in two circles.  Tiny animals, and the great size of the dear birds, did no loitering.  Civility prevailed, and we all stayed within, an example for those floating in wind breakers, along the rain swept flinch reminding the ears of this prevalent pinch.  The small book was thicker than the others, the great boulders were in pockets.  The tiny eyes, the encyclopedias, were in sockets.

The salamander did not expect to fine
that a lizard could lose all the teeth
collected through evolution.  Eyes turned
to sink into the dryness of erosion.
Hair failed to grow where the birds
preferred feathers.  The skin began to
fall away leaving the animal out in
cold weather, slowly drying to escape
the erosion of amphibious skills, to
escape the cage of the canvas and slip
into the water another time.

It seems to be a clear matter
of identifying a name or a place,
on the page, where the photo can
be typed, a title in blue, that
underlines, pulls itself through
the spindle to call the image forth.

It, then, occurs to the watcher that
everything has changed, and the
other scene cannot be found.  The
blighted, slighted mind that worries
and goes looking on and onward
sometimes finds its way, again.
There is no better course than to ask
a confused friend.  Advice leads the
wanderer back to a home where
people are on the same page.

No tragedy distorts the imaginary result,
of working to improve upon the past,
where steam ran the dynamos and, now,
as it powers dreams, they are only models.

The escape is from the tragedy, inherent in
the machines, to claim the victory of new,
beautiful mechanisms that are not rusty in
the presence of companionship between

mother and daughter.

Within the forms of the ledges and ridges,
threads of the feeble breezes tried to confer
and draw forth, as their explanation, an
acceptance through traveling with companions
who did not reject the powers of conversation,

held within the scenery and handed across
without any alarm or voice of awakened
hostility.  The rejection was strong enough to
stay in sight as the hovering screech of the
necessary owl.  Watching the bird, the
creature of the steps above the spiral arm
seemed to be at liberty to discover the gentle
voices swirling through the mist.  While the

division of the stars proceeded to wash the
scaffold free of a slow moving controversy,
the remaining voices presented rambling

rings and the stripes of planets.  It was late in
the evening.  Swirling spots remained to be
counted, an expense that provided sustenance
to families of flowers and the wafted powers
of pollen as seeds with mechanical metal
threaded between one nebula and the next.

The waves tossed a small barn up onto the edge
of the mountain but used reassuring words to
surround the animals allowing them to travel
comfortably.  Conversation usually included any

of the stars that were emerging from the
entertainment field.  These had been packed,
carefully, with the necessary, spare parts and
albums filled with memories in photographs.
Frequent glances wore a familiar trail between

the shelter and the edge where moss cascaded
like rivers of joy moving among the banks of
grass, carrying the hulls, like fish, through
channels into the city.  Acutely reminded that
serious people would be encountered before the
ages ended, the mice were nice and did not
tempt the birds into flights and attacks.  The
exception to this was hunger which ruled the
loyalty of the rodent population.  Any, of the
gathering, with reddish fur cast a shadow down

the stairway lit, as it always had been, from the
tremendous stellar flights that were lost, as
sparks above the dark chimney, the matter in
charge of all convection for a reasonable and
eternal distance into the mine.

Powder erupted around the wheels of
the careening steel.  Many questions
remained added to the enigma,

the empty wreck.

Glances over the deployed air bag
indicated that the zeppelin would not
fly, wrinkled, as it was, by the impact
of the road.  Limits implied, in advance,
that the wheel could be expected
to break off of the parked vehicle, not

as often as a blue moon.  This warning
did not reach the pilot deeply immersed
in an adventurous dream.  A tree
arrived to confront the day without

troubles, and, from the leaves, a mistake
was coaxed into being through the use
of incredibly attractive and accented
meanings always intended to provoke an
event, the stormy scene which exploded

in a shower of sparks from the clattering

steel.  A long wait resulted in a deluge of
water across the green strands of hair that
were floating implicated by the color and
the formal presence lofted so easily into
the sky.  In this fashion, they were able to
send passengers far out into the universe,

entering the deep space, where cats became
stable creatures, and the long neck of the
new dinosaur was reaching through the door
of the hay loft asking to be allowed this
journey into the green rivers, which painted
hair, wherever they could be found.  The

stare of the eye, in this storm,

had a memory of endless days spent
manipulating aggravated spirits to create
trivial, game points.  Although winning did not
matter, discovery was losing.  It could not be

escaped with a simple misdirection.  The
crisis was in the middle between departure and
arrival.  The bewildered animals discussed this,
thoroughly, before deciding not to participate.
They were lucky when allowed to watch

quietly from a nearby star system.

Balanced on two wheels, the bell chimed
periodic lengths to extend the race sleeping in
chests in the hall.  It all related to experiences
floundering in relation to news events and
plans to engage in safe travel, indefinitely.

Chairs were creaking from the strain of ignorance,
as the habit of ignorant anticipation gripped the
edge of a creative moment to disrupt thoughts
which hoped to choose the pastel colors of an

expressive photograph.  Rather than deep garden
saturation, the light, fading to become ghosts
of movement, offered a place of acceptance.  Shrugs
rounded the shoulders of the road, so it could be
claimed that no responsibility hindered the

development of suspension systems.  Political
levitation supported the dancers as they turned onto

the public stage in a forum of occupation.  The state
of the street, in the absence of smooth nylon, brought
the parachutes down to flutter, disconsolately, above
the pavement.  Single waves of regret were drawn

to leave the stage, but, as this effort was declined,

determination measured resolve based upon
community options, described in the local papers.
Setting the pages down, each day, the play became
enamel baked onto the restoration and the satisfaction
which kept them all together as a group.  Certain
curtains were raised, as others were lowered to close
the door excluding the poor

from the equal share of space related to the experiments
of the place.

Conversation by clerks sculpted freedom to crimp the
brass cases in ways not accepted by sprites in mid
flight.  These were the colors in the ledger interpreted as
shades of gray or flashing midnight blue, faint copper,
and pearly white.  Forces of education were dismissed
as a superficial demonstration indicating the character,

intensive.

Thus, they were reaching for the money, but funding
remained a gift offered only to those admired and,
through the glass, profitable by cultural attributes.  Some
thought the process was the singular importance of an
event.  The dancers were dreaming, as they rehearsed.
Another kind of artist discarded the event in favor of the
documents and images meant to persist.  These, the
dancing players favored as memories to be contemplated,

some to be cherished.

Materialism, since it included spirit, ruled the transient
existence experienced as joy.  Perception brought
enjoyment into being, yet when the unusual critic walked
away, it was a dispossession.  Other critics were members

of the team.

After the inception of the new, high speed way,
luck beheld a continuation that increased
velocity even more.  Stores, beginning through
optimistic (sails, sales) filled with industrious
wind currents, began to perish, because the dust

crept in to forget and never start again.  Trade
was offered from one to another, likely to achieve

practical results, but the consequence was a loss
of heritage.  All that had gone before stumbled
out the door into darkness and surcease.  Absence
was abandoned as the light walked away into
the desolate remains which, in only a few days,
left the city, and commerce, stalled with people,
everywhere, standing quietly like burlap dolls.
The sound was pouring light outward from its
eyesight to remember something other than that

which had been lost, inserted and devoid; the
former ideas drifted to become a trace of the new

prestige.  Communication overwhelmed the hope
though hope endured.  A collection of machines
was learning to live together, and to attend night
clubs with astonished amounts of stress arguing
against the comprehension which insisted that
importance was captivating the subjects of change.

Always, they were slinking into the circuits,
coloring the programs with a steady pace that
receded to neglect functionality.  Those tired of
hearing about the clocks winding down were not
escaping the clever snares set for their awkward

feet and kept among delicate fossils of brilliance.
It might have been a global fever, or perhaps
everything just ceased to operate.  Some strike by
electrons offered them the predicament, and
the opportunity, returning them to a simple form

of human sentiment, so that smaller gatherings

arrived at the significance of a tale while burning
things on sticks above the campfires flickering
along the coast and seen inland at the base of
distant mountains.  Simple arts included using
furniture and hot air balloons driven by stainless
steel burners.  Talking too often, and to a point of
foolish interruption, demonstrated the frailty of
coordination where zeros and ones meant,
essentially, that a point had been made and lost,
although fighting confusion was denied by context.
Some of this was mistaken by preconceptions that
created impractical situations, and other things
were long walks glued to comfortable boots or

reliable shoes.

Since the man was living the slam
lifestyle, he decided not to write
the slam poem.  His daughter was
discussing the slam conversations.
She was a conversationalist.  The
man considered himself to be her
slam father.  It was all right to be
careful and not get slammed for
work that was inordinately spontaneous.

"...He tosses the rocks
     in a pile.
     They roll together,
     exchanging the names
     of men and women
     stories of wounds,
     a few notes of music
     stones know..." -- Mary Rose O'Reilley (Half Wild Poems).

The boy breaks the rocks
against each other, with the other,
the girl, and the report
is clean in the dry air.  Children
like the puffs of dust, as they will
always like the fate resounding.

{ [ ind del int f ( r ) d r d ( N , Z ) d r ] / ( d y ) }
= { [ pi q ( u ) d q ] / ( d u ) } .

They favor the incredible knowledge
gained by surgery; the rocks, using
glue, are reassembled.  The threads
converse with the skin.

Colors are gleaming, like healing, from
within.

"...There are presumably images in the experience of lower animals...They have not that future and past which gives them, so to speak, any rights as such..." -- George Herbert Mead.

Lower being a term relative to concepts like the limbs of trees or the position in a list, only a careful, philosophical assessment was capable of blooming as a flower from the starfish to the stars.  The past was an increment creating a (perfected, preferred) series of growths unfolding by the propagation of a (blueprint, dream).  The dreams quantized ideology to make the receptivity and the discoveries made by grape hyacinths or hardy grass.

[ d _ cos ln d ( g , h ) P ( t ) ] = { [ tau n ( u ) d I ] / ( d e ) } :
int F ( B ) d I = dfn q ( r ) d r .

Best liked was the colorful effect of self enthusiasm, bringing shade, from the darkness to the twilight, of the trees.  Yet, the animals had learned to grow claws and legs.  Were the birds not learning to fly?  Striving brought a weight of labor, the years were fading into prehistory.  Predestiny had been a decision by tulips.  Disturbances had been required to bring evolution.  Insects were living a fantasy with flowers.  This looked across to obscurity.  Those hidden were not like those dancing.

The man was smart.  The animals,
watching, knew it.  The shattering
glass of the universe felt the opposition,
and the understanding was the result
of a fiendish ambition.  There was a
recording.  It time, there was a healing
record; it reached for the few left unwell.
They were floundering until it was
discovered to be the shape of things
drawn with ink.  The deception of empty
hands, which refused to let them drink
the clean water also offered to slay
the daughter.  This forced them all to
worry about forensic relics and lumps of
shattered trust.  Love was hidden away
for the sake of uninterrupted safety.

In a field of flowers, the marigolds
waved to say hello on behalf of the
wind.  It was not, at that time,
well understood, that the wind had
cosmic drifts of stars, like blossoming
marigolds, to be parried with steel
and resolve.  The numbers added up
to amounts obscured and contradicted.
This interminable universe swirled in
spirals set by the hysterical gardener.
The telephone operator was calm.

Heat From the battle was traced to the shrill noise in the cavernous, wooden structure.  Its foolish doors were open to the base of the walls; a gulch of formidable blasts flowing with the dark energy tossed, like waves of air, to tremble with the violence of a secret thought.  It was protested that such designs were not very friendly, but the spirit crouched and did not like the room, complaining that the herds were given enough space for migration, while everyone else had only the edge of the shade to stand in for protection from the thrilling events by which the chicken wire began to unravel.  Or, rather, it was gently coiled and sent to a different corner of the experimental machine.  Time was influencing the organization, while the argument continued to bounce dust off the shelves and ledges.  The tools hanging against the boards were clanking and rattling.  The stage presented them with light shining across their faces and through the feathers or the thick fur.  Few of the animals had on harnesses or raincoats, but there was no doubt that the wild party had spilled into the telephone where individuals wandered as if looking for a specific person, a man in charge of his, privately sculpted destiny.  Perhaps, they sought his wife.  Freely, they inhabited foreign planets, moving from each, primitive barn, returning to the familiar boards and planks of the theoretical device, the refuge of the couple, with its pulleys and gears.  Care was taken that both of the great buildings were similar and could be interchanged, but one of them was always in the meadow where the two lived.  The other wandered across the mountain tops always attracting curiosity.  The expectation was that, soon, the arm would find itself crowded by a multitude of them.  The roads were not designed to carry the weight of such traffic, and as the gasoline turned into paint thinner, the ladies began to admire the polish on their nails.  The men were pounding as if they were hammering nails of iron.  When the alternatives had been examined, a company of claws chose the primitive way and walked in single file along the ridge.  They could feel the grip of the burlap and wanted to gaze deeply into the star fields.  Ignoring the fight as the splinters flew away from disintegrating boards, they calmly sharpened themselves and stood at the edge to have photographs taken with their own cameras.  Millions of these images became famous throughout the entire province.  The winner of the conflict received a gold medal.

"...In Tempore quoad ordinem successionis; in Spatio quoad ordinem situs locantur universa..."
--D. Isaaci Newtoni, "Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica."

Language was grown into the vines to make the food interesting.  The animals, who evolved their own sustenance, drew synergy out of the completion which could not be expected to vary as a potential, a desire, in the course of the rise.  From the deep cushion, something had repelled softness to surprise eternity within the inevitable vibration.  This was comprehended by elephants and giraffes.

< d _ exp ctn r ( x ) i ( r . k : K ) i ( h . c : C ) =
{ [ u t ( y ; N , Z ) d b ] / ( d v d x ) } > @
[ int int int n ( f ) d d d _ d e e e ] . del h .

In the darkness of the cool months, the heat was measured at a single temperature, the universal presence of a glass of (cold, hot) water seeking the measure of the thermometer.  The wolves measured it freezing.  The lizards in the desert remembered the dreams of ants wandering to be described as particles of light.

"...How terrible the stump of the woodmen,
     Their blunted shapes lumped under the sheets of snow..."
                         --Roy Doughty

From such a wrapping, the elegy proceeded,
the last blanket tucked below the bare
feelings extended, stripped of their green fingers like perception
following thought into deflection.  Abstractly, a silent museum
held power against the hill at a ***** of durable rock.  This
granite pulled thinking together in its form.

{ [ _ int f ( x ) d x d t = = del _ f ( x ) d g d E ] [ // ( y ; N , Z ) ] } .

It was allowed to like the experimental results of making lumps
under the sheets of summer, to be ironed and smelted
by the industry of the particular set, upon whatever planet
survival could be accepted, floating between work and the play
of its imagined universe, the sheets folded and placed

upon a shelf like numbers.

"...Igitur quantitates relativae non sunt eae ipsae quantitates quarum nomina prae se ferunt, sed earum mensurae illae sensibilis (verae an errantes) quibus vulgus loco mensuratarum utitur..."
--D. Isaaci Newtoni.

Time did not relent under the force of speculation.  The only trees that could be seen were in the photographs beyond the reach of the faltering jeep.  Although it was claimed that such a rugged machine would endure the longer journeys, truth explained that the truck had grown old.  It had a ferocious grill to protect the radiator.

cos ln q ( u ) d P d e = mu chi v ( w ) d ( y , par Z ) d ( x , hyp N ) .

The sense of protection fended off any result of error on the highway.  Basic footing expressed the hardness, and the light, floating away, came from electric lamps, like eyes, glowing through dust.  The name of the purpose implied that sensitive eyes disliked the sudden splash of illumination.  It was true; the passengers did not like the expectation of more to come.  The new engines were stronger and ran cooler.

Declared to be the home of the ants,
the barn was, also, shared by the dogs
and the big lizards who stored
formidable teeth opposite the nipping
mandibles.  Each moment the favorite

spaces became temples traversed by
wandering dotted lines while,
certainly, a pause to clean the claws

gave time for articles of memory.  Attire
provided a music festival to brighten the
warm days with delicate sounds within
dark recesses where chilly dust filtered
the beams to secure the rafters.  Along

these trails, the plight was relieved; the
threat was removed to slumber waiting

for a wind swept rush of fur.  Pulling
the shutters back from the eyes, the
working specks of the ants proclaimed
their choices and followed these
implications into predicaments leading
them to be wise.  The influence

demonstrated the passing of lives into
praise for the correct answers by which
the ways advanced to persist.  There was
plenty of empty, sweet time hovering
above their heads yet leaving them
impatient to see a transpired eternity,

gathered in a massive tribe, ready to
explore the encroaching season with its
microscopic grasses and piles of stone.

As an institution, the old, red building

weathered its boards in the valley,
forgotten by more pragmatic industries
in cans and bottles of plastic.  To wear
the collar of the ant or the lizard was a

rare honor not granted in the homes

of many house wives.  It was as rare as
gold to find lodging with the fascinating
mercy of the human outlook.  It was a
great deal of trouble to look after these
others, small or large as they might be.
Seemingly, it was difficult to explain the

logic intended to regulate the wild,
independent lives, and, as they were
misguided, an anger tended to drive them
closer rather than away.  Under the skin,
it was very close to an intolerable form of
humor, but what explained itself as being
very funny also remained the hostility
alienated and inevitable, like the slamming
horns of the sheep and goats, like the poetry
of the birds and the herds.

Beginning with the frost and snow,
anticipation extended its tedious reach again,
but it was not right to suffer as the season
swept around the sun.  A member of the
fall, like a tender leaf felt inured, by thought,
a humble intellect to serve the usual course

in words and weather, the pride of a
recurring sort.  Weary blades of grass

were striving, even so, to grow against
the warmth in the few weeks, and, as the
skirts were purchased in the stores,
investment ruled to favor amiable, cold

breezes.  The house grew quiet as the fans
were stilled for a suspense until the
furnace roared.  The issue was patterns in
layers from the top, and the claim to the
design belonged only to the way the ice
expanded as crystals of moisture, crazy,
having forgotten how to caress the blossoms
of the shrubs; thus, a pleasure had gone to
sleep, its circulation numbed by

inevitable force, and conditions hibernated
beneath the indelible clarity of the air.  The
splendid gyrations of the course became
obstacles harder on tightened joints, while
contestants moved from the warm climate
to the chilling, northern forests.  It remained

possible to survive, because there were other
members of the team such as split sticks of
wood and cradles for sprained elbows.  It
could not be suitable to grow tired of such a
challenge.  When the door was secured, the

roots could relax and spread out like the
tentacles of a squid, beside the glowing hearth,

to read a book or watch a show.  Above, there
was nothing left alive between the earth and
the birds, scratched into the sky and dashed
along the lines of wire.  Birds sagged and were

swaying while the gusts played with their bony
feet clutched around the cylinders made of
copper and coated with insulation.  Warm
currents and feathers made a thatch for a roof
that favored the roots and left them insulated
while around them slumbering creatures had
been forgotten.  No memory existed to claim
the cycle of the warm days when the humming
in space reflected the ripples in the shaded
pools.  The endless days were the realm of
vacant threads of branches in the chilly trees.

"...Ut si globi duo ad datam ab invicem distantiam filo intercedente connexi, revolverentur ur circa commune gravitatis centrum..."
D. Isaaci Newtoni.

From the level of the sea with its worlds of similarity and wonders of nature attracting beautiful birds, these ships fled to find the swirl reaching through to the floor.  The ocean bed was dampened with the tears seen by the floating machine.

{ [ ( r - 3 ) d d u d t t ( f ) x ] / [ ( x , P ) ] } =
tau pi g ( y ; hyp N , par Z ) d w d x .

Observation created a self reflection, whereby the cosmic engineers projected the video like winds from outer forests.  Engines became magical reverberation arising, if a correct answer could be presented to exist, as quality persistence like pieces of candy.  Glittering, colored fragments of glass were scattered along the shore, they all liked as much as they admired the inventor.

"...here, where the blades in the ceiling
          interrupt...
     this...is the place you left
          home to get locked out from..."
                             --Sally Van Doren.

Step again, and we move along
the haphazard course of tragic occurances
expressed as the passage of news events.
Elegant, the couple has immunity by
the honor of necessary respect.  In this
perspective, looking at the ceiling we, all,
see the patterns of the stars, currents
of speculation and the influence from space.

{ [ _ q int r ( q ) ] / ( d e , d n ) } =
[ d u _ ( x ) y ( N , Z ) ] .

After it had gone away, the memory was
a continuation.  Each comparison left its
emptiness; only the universe continued to be
a ceiling above the (floor, bed).  In the flowers,
the next springs bouncing through their
allotment, the years were reaching for
a prominent eternity.  The change of phase
being self determined, like the space of
quotation, the resolution adjusted the course of
needed, pine forests, needed barrels of oil, rain,
sustainable living becoming the fire

of the rebuilding.  This, we remembered with
journalism by interpretation, pointing to importance.

The Setting Was A Colored Stone (Pare 1 Of 3)

For the barefoot girl, the faithful
album was an afternoon in the
sports bar where there had been
a guitar player and some ginger ale.

Now the trumpet was singing a wide
screen view of the big game.  
Eliminating distractions, the crew
was focused on the game, ignoring
the girl as she wandered, in bare feet,
between the tables.  No pretense
suggested that the medium was not
appropriate for those who climbed
railroad ties and those who drank beer
in moderation after negotiations about
the green sheaves and the upstairs room.

In this castle, time was suspended.

The Setting Was A Colored Stone (Part 2 Of 3)

Ashes were good for the roots of the plant
in the window where the response was
directed to the coolness, or the hot weather.
In sports, the weather seemed to be extreme.
It was always freezing cold the opposite;
coaches meant to be cautious watching for
heat stroke among the players.  The club was
not louder than the dim barn where animals
were removed from the immediacy of the
last few weeks of the season.  Some of the
birds could not fly; there were mice that
could climb to humble abodes in the rafters,
and the cats gathered apart from the dogs.
The heavy lifters had reassuring
incantations derived by the artificial
structures of the radiology through iconic
projection.  Antenna reception hovered to
mark the insects with aesthetic devices,
a discovery by evolution.

The Setting Was A Colored Stone (Part 3 Of 3)

Screams came from the permutation and
signing a transcript of the spiritual drawing
which had been seen wandering among all
the other creatures living and working in
the flying building.  The gathering showed

grinning teeth and disappeared.  Found at

the bottom of the mineshaft, was the fictional
ring of speculations and associations
confronting the mischief of the few by the
motionless badges of authority.  Life depended
on the weathered red boards where the climate
ranged like it was galloping across the public
space, proved free by the friendliness of
kindly associates and the universe of powers,
the authority of birds that did not fly and barns
that had flown away.

Straight lines bound the edges,
while it became necessary to spend
the anchor of time lost in the twisting
patterns slowly darkening to supply
the molecules which provided scenery.

The character was divided
between a wolf and the hiker towering
at the pinnacle of the hill to gaze above

the head of the beast across to the vista
of the trail.  Roses bloomed, and the ink
was done, to dry while color trickled
in a world comprised through streams
of shivering light reflected from

the mountain, a flower raised by
the frivolous event of cataclysmic times;
the hatchet carved its cliffs to make

a face of empty granite and the soul of
the rock.  The delay created a great offer,
considered by erosion, but the hesitation
defied the smoothing influence of climates
and their ages.  The rise killed the
enthusiasms of the hiking spirit,
reconstituting the problem, and
the messenger of hilarity was never less
welcome than when enthusiastic about the
confusion of lost victims.  Always a few
of these were

in the scenes along the shimmering trails
with their names that changed at inconvenient
turning points until travelers were anxious
to go through the door into the chalet with its
green carpet of moss.  The discount welcomed

them, inside, yet there was no great pile
of money and nothing was purchased.  Instead,
after the warmth set in, showing determination,
the man with the pack returned to life on
the wild edge of the land.  After a command to

the sharp creature that had been pacified by the
impressive displays of civilization, the walker
began to trek, and the wandering dog felt self
respect, the beginning of membership.  So, they

belonged to the range, and the traders had plans
to provision them by means of a system of values
arrived to demonstrate available necessities and
equities conceived in the course of bargaining.

This general aspiration was accompanied by the
taciturn response thought to be more pleasant
than the argument and ill will.  Prosperity had
been created by serving fate and nature rather
than by transferring property to a singular pit.
The result was an expectation of good deals and
reliable assistance.

Frightful abilities were pressured into
responses as the computer children
failed at hitherto reliable performance.
This was a description of the synchronous
effect brought into the shudder with a
catch in the breath of the mother,

and written by frenetic action that
destroyed the logical sequence of requests
presented by the mouse and the typing keys.

As directed through an esoteric process of
recovery, the minds of the device reoriented,
again attaining the ability to perform simple
and repetitive tasks as obliged by designated

prompts.  There was no certainty this was not
related to the telephone connection which
picked thinking out of the air like a television
receiving a network broadcast.  In the same

way, the exhaust pipe rambled as the engine
of the truck idled too rapidly and, then,
stalled.  Everything was restarted.  The vehicle
operated right away.  The computer bumbled
along flashing through scenes and blank screens,
the curser pulsing like a heart beat in the upper
corner.  This had to be worn like a sign of
concentration, meaning that the (citizen, computer)
was being observed, and the sensitive response
would be, literally, automatic, but sometimes
the potentiometer brought, to sight, a gesture
of communication.  It was cute that such clever
trinkets were hiding down in there until the

spirit tapped the muscles of the shoulder blade.
It became apparent this relation depended upon

keys found in ancient aliens such as arcades and
magic books.  A tiny soul was stored in a pocket,
in the telephone; it reached out with its vibration
and launched into the world to grab news with
its operating, search engines.  It had eyes and
could see in the dark.  So, the age was over in
which it could be expected that photographs were
the result of special manners and the courageous
offer of friendly snapshots.  As torches confused

ferocious animals, the excuse depended upon dark
difficulties in the chemical room.  In the garden,
the televised betrayal generated a crossfire of live
video, and, thus, fools were unlucky.  Energy and
conflict had been misguided.  New, public devotion
protected the evolution of tableware or discrete
implements that chimed to be taken into other rooms.
Discourse was enabled and following discursion,
long, private moments carried visitors away.

I need to pay,
so I need to be paid;
I am not in debt,
because I have been working.

"...Let the pines grow out of my skin.
     Winds howl in my mouth..."
     --James A. Ciletti.

Let the cylinders be there to connect the lonely,
grating bones, above the level of the rational
falls of water and the pictures, so inspired that
They like to appear on stage to whistle as vapors
rising through the spout.  The moon is smiling
down upon the frost of the equation.  Perhaps,
no animal has been hopping through pristine
squares of frozen falling, remembering
the singular match, the leaf leaving.

{ [ d _ ind del d j e ( m ) ] / ( d e ) } =
min y ( N , Z ) d t - C .

Coldness was like the presence and solutions
to incredible problems, growing worse, while
others, watching, stood, silently observant,
hoping to help, but the springs in the agreements
were the assistance for the splashing colors,
anticipated and arriving as a series of blades
removing lovely, warm weather.

When small pieces of the bark
begin to growl
and the pills are scattered
on the ground,
where the tree began to prowl
in the park
without a sound,

the drop appears.
Like a crystal sphere
it wobbles and, then,
fades back, until the
leaves, and the mind,

turning black, are saturated
with new times; a
suspicious character, perhaps
not as known, already home
and perfectly grown has
reached the end, forever after.

"...Motus autem veros ex eorum causis, effectibus & apparentibus differentijs colligere, & contra, ex motibus seu veris seu apparentibus, eorum causas & effectus, docebitur fusius in sequentibus..."
D. Isaaci Newtoni.

There will be a sequence of unexpected statements.  We understood, that this was said which likened the beginning to the continuation.  It was the orchard from which delicious fruits displayed their love for the taste of them, the meanings.  Seeds were harvested through the dimly perceived writings of ancient scholars.

{ [ c exp tan r ( x ) d w d r ] / ( d x ) }
= { [ ( k , h ) tau int g ( r ) d w d t ] / ( d f d v ) } .

Visited in the course of evolution, all realized the implication, that seasons would arrive from which the meeting of machines would be complementary like the force of a sports team.  The objects gathering into droplets included the growth of sunlight transforming ashes; yet the dictionary is not to change.