edible poetry to eat
things to read the thing is, the thing is
The Source There are only so many words in a language that you can stall with before fabrication fades into sequence. Old words, chewed-up and tasteless things, get dusty and soft, like old baseball gloves. If there ever was an autograph on the word �sunset,� it�s been worn away with the unraveling. Sunset is useless as a collector�s item. But, when placed in the right position, at the exact line drive moment it is needed, it makes a whole new kind of magic. Poetry is that�the eloquent way to say dirty. Four letters describing the sun. Strangely, I suffer a vocabulary which, no doubt, has words that are not translatable from English. Being aware of their presence without the skills necessary to segregate them presents me with a new kind of lack. Such words can go back to a fresh expression, but the experience of learning them is different, the second time around. Perhaps I would appreciate them more; the beginnings of a curve, as if language itself could be slipping around the edge of a plate. things to say
things to eat and the thing is.

the place for things that suck

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