Whispers to Sea: I – V

I.
What is man’s intention when creative labor of millions of fully 2016 October and hurricane. What the great do – Acteon the hunter and his hounds. Heliodorus stopped in Klamath Falls, Oregon. I thought mostly old people here on the way through to Sacramento in the large car, it is empty. I can’t help but think of Indians. The moon looks at you with… I see a man upon the moon like the girl with the city inside of a car that stays alongside everything happening at once. The train takes some lurches – Chekhov, Maupassant, Sartre. I saw Orion’s belt traveling SPMV Union Pacific Railroad. Ocean – His naked body stands in the things look the same in the long trains illumine the shadows and we are just ands through the Modoc National Forest. I have not found sleep tonight. Poverty was something engrained. Lights shine on lots where, at 5:25, we arrive slowly in cactus on the street corner in the city lights and street lamps. La Mar, I love her. Wallenius Wilhelmsen perhaps the last time I will. Martinez is a town touching an ancient people steal from each other, Mashtots man. If I close my eyes I may be giant ravens flying over the pages of my book seep up. Today I write of mysteries, the smell of the ink exudes, the marijuana is growing from “Rufus, he’s the man.” When I was younger I loved. The interns all share one black Volkswagen covered pizza house in Arcata driving a spaceship of tenderness to the books received in California. Wild as it seems, I see life – the jetty was long and someone is calling the rain. Stepping out onto the wooden porch, white cranes in open meadows wound like a ball. The small house in California now quietly adjusting the scale past people concerned with Flat Earth. Power gained? Of course I miss my kitten stretched between two buds fall from the ceiling, a hidden modern day road. Ferns and madrones, today another bookstore, poor Jean Carlo. Sometimes, when you start to placing human emotions on Lisitzky’s dying campfires, the young horse, perfect in proportion, shavings of wood. When you can see a life and know the flight of a humming bird – and so what of it? The farmer wanders through puddles forming in the flooded. Of course the news of out of the Earth is a place where I feel the dark, lonely, frigidness of sitting at the edge of California water. Mason Ehrman & Co. – A grown man should not complain. The Baby Boomer Generation is cars broken down and abandoned. Once again we had arrived back , “Where’s your spaghetti tosser?” – The Brigand. And we are left thinking, “Will we?” My brother has a love, we have a box, and it projects motorbikes down a poplar street, the cloud is mightier than the sun and the first books to crawl, I would like to spend. Our nation pretends the whole, “To whom shall I complain?” Small balls of wax, hash, rolled and eyes rotation in dusty during the first winter I experienced the effects of drugs on Bobbie’s choice; a silent hand sneaks across to run away from streets I know and I have a Lola in my veins. “You’ve got to vote!” From the lips and so the wino sang sweet. Why am I in this environment? Life can seems all put together when deep in the hills of northern California. They can see underwater with guerilla warfare the first form of stirring up the pot. It is my birthday today, October. It is amazing how much a baby, sense and sensibility, the fox, Henry IV, when I enter a room, maybe I should destroy everything I have. Fewer choices, higher costs as the rapid rise of BVC funding views from second story windows in the end of all confusion. Amazing street signs in the Akihabara. The people in B. are queasy. They, beautiful people, surround and my deer crossing into the yard in calm repose sensation “It’s Koala tea leaves, eh?” Over the ridges of Eternity I will be his matted hair, depends in thick necessity, is my mother. Li Po, ah happy bee! How boldly dost though try. Juror removed in standoff trial. Jurors, others say, government overreached. United Kingdom Central Banker faces backlash compared to a running horse. What the flustered old dog barks and, “She got gordo already.” “Ladies and gentlemen I’ll have you stand.” When the bright sun his radiant brow the paths of this world are tortuous. Nazism Hikmet and a strange, hot desire. The wind is your own.

II.
Seeking to gain power? Conscious people laboring. Matthew prattles of Diana. Egyptian thief train station headed further and it is true but I have been, say, except for a few young men, on trains crammed desperately. Slanted eye upon realizing Atlas, except carrying his own – her body. To forget all these sons of whores alongside our train and its far off a man walks by and steals a forward or sways side to side. Camus, Caldwell, Steinbeck. Across the desert in California, 319 UP903134, to be conquered and window and she admires him dark as they do during where no man’s foot has dared to. How large our pride compared. We came in cars on smooth though she has waved her silver in his face, his forearms, his feet of men did once roam Sacramento. The last people to exit Davis stay on to greet the rising sun to the sea – docked. Take a seat next to a different species of butterfly, redwood trees still in subtle ways. Agathangelos thinking in time, somewhere familiar, a place, hills, dew from grass. I soon learned – resolved. A black odor the ceiling. Who was sitting outside on the drive through puddles? Glock with yellow leaves underneath on the 101 things this morning – the moon. Were before me from the view from white mist from the crashing, the first drop of rain followed. I have entered through the door, hundreds of calling frogs one hour past midnight thread. I can see with where we stay. Raining for a few days. Midnight theory. And then what? I worry for his loneliness – paths of life. The woodstove glows orange, lined at the side with peeling cloak the bronze hill. Many treasures found, to write in a room, it looks as animals and plant life, firm muscles and confident stride, leaves on the soil, of a way you are to bring comfort, pauses for a moment, and this little world here – His crop dutifully examining farm, question, learning of any kind. Limits of life are tested. Every winter of my earlier years staring far way into the Pacific – the healing component – and I, in Klamath, like a simple child, disgusting, I believe one word at the side of the road in B. after two weeks nothing seemed. “It’s what I do, I don’t time it!” Return south soon? Along the, and according to Ingrid, the light. No wonder everyone sits. A peddler passes calmly without the wind, is mightier than the way into my sight and brought birthday as a day normal infrastructure is not old, when all of against your hand if I am tossed inside a smoking marijuana sockets examining the man with no home. Every morning we human brain red tomatoes fly igniting Halloween – Table to steal a brownie before inhabit the dens that find no sleep. This drawing of a girl, of Clinton, while her husband docks tunes between heaves and surrounded by these people. You see an old woman walking with LSD vision. I ran to the top color, patriotism see? I’m the one who made it hot 2016, and ecstatic morning can change the feeling of the King Lear, The Rubaiyat, On the Road. I slowly walk to the candles written for how am I to say for sure open enrollment begins? The middle of downtown B., Oregon so, “I invoke thee, thou diamond-fiery.” It is true, even the meanest garb feel inclined to be the first person they heart is willing to greet them, looking up to look into the Matali. We journey in the path of Parivaha; zoom in and see where 108th is, humming the hymns of Mutability. Entanglement about his shoulders. If you were to ask me why I dwell among, to steal the luster from her sparking eye. Election tough for parents, teachers emails show strategy of Clinton pipeline shift. Pakistan moves to block protests. Are you to me an individual obsessed? Claws at the backdoor to the organic cider and ginger, displaced and sad there. I sprinkle words in handfuls, and hear with me, city — of course one day I will. Haunts me also in daylight, there is a walnut tree breathing.

III.
When all the virtues of a people – people are the creators of all repeated tremors over two months. Your mute I will be when my tongue, Arion charming dolphins with song. Ludwig Wittgenstein south into northern California. My surprise at the amount of youth or maybe Oakland and a middle aged woman headed to places unknown. Your gaze permeating from burden. A sack he slung over his growing, tinkling with all these dogs who never stop on the highway. Only it’s light illumines sleeping man’s empty cup. The moon switches windows as Hemingway, Faulkner, Kafka northern a yellow train car off the tracks. Bested in a duel, it is as a rocket ship preparing to day. The sun gives us confidence tread our size. Rails pulling slowly out of each town. Wand through my eyelashes, chest, the way he ate into. But now they are barren objects, the train have just left the seat. Onnly an hour or so until let her know surely her neighbors a giant ship all red at the bottom. French couple incessant, whirling around the same patch of grove, a gather of nymphs. Heraclitus Panta rhei – Abstractly knowing with birdbaths and water fountains in northern California with that; the slightly frantic chirping and knowing who you are. Fire is water jumping porch playing a wooden flute because splashing water is underneath a yellow giant winding through the Avenue of The Girl and The Hashish Smoker. The great dialogues of a hill somewhere before the waves created an aura along his step as he thundered along of my inner mind where one may past midnight huge open pastures one eye only through. It has been a welcome storm. Two and ideas of being stuck in. Rule the world? Because I know he will be bored. A situation the rain beats a rhythm outside madrones and all but the dew drops use the words of Leo from if you are writing of the eats, the new grass at the bottom of the ash on the table. Into it? Do you leave it as is? Lands on the branch of a bubble and from every the beds, one star over the ridge is forbidden. Better for nonsense drawing from the unlimited well stuck in a dimly lit room strange, resting on a large stone. Heard someone not long ago in a Falls, Oregon, the last stop on, may describe the lot of them littered the way down to change. But the color red is everywhere. “Ouch! My hand is right there.” Stomping into every room smoke coast take the 101 and frogs in Chile croak the same in front of one eyes leaving the white line on the cloud home where, as any others, a secret day, our water pipes are seeping lead to seek justice also from pip as palo santo burns on the conditions of his kingdom. Would have to heat our water on the effect of emotion on the wars. School kids jump fences and dinner from off a paper. Hopping trains across borders into waters of the shallow. In millions behind the scenes in some wiping silent tears at the bar. Why have I been complacent for her granddaughter? And you think of a budding hill that rose huge, a silver tortoise guards the fire. Who was the one who used to rock with rain and mist, cool in the entire room and instantly brighten selections of Chekhov and a thesaurus. By the window and light two if these ideas really belonged to me. Standoff verdict adds to tense, close the lovely park that holds very majestic star. Gives to true beauty fresh attractiveness, know of to happen to know some in between these souls there are few window of the human home. The wind that bears along the triple Ganges, a twinkling star catches my eye from the one who’s name was writ on and birds constructs their nests green mountains and thy circling movement hover near. Halloween costumes inspiring new type Shiite militias join Mosul offensive. Saudi-led air strikes hit prison complex with being. An ant of my colony as I kitchen drenched in jealousy, it burned, and earth in all it’s loveliest hues arrayed the jeering mouths of men open and to the birds, to the roots of roses, an entire people’s cries come and lay my cheek against and I want not only to growl and grin, growing in the vineyard and you are private.

IV.
Must be given full expression wealth but were kept in misery in Italy babbles, let my eyes not see. Greek poet Tractatus Logico-Philosophius. Mom left us at the train station and even at the small stench of the bathrooms can be fixed, complaining about the space in, perhaps, a spot moved from your familiar shoulder causes his strenuous lights. Her chest heaving with chasing me with their long teeth. The road under all the stars. As soon as one may rest his head we weave around the bases of Joyce, Huxley, D.H. Lawrence, where small canyon walls would, somewhere in northern California masculine thing but seen, take flight. She holds his shirt the moon taketh away. We stop for a minute and so there were, “Who is the man behind with yellow?” Her strong steady fingers. Everything sit like stone behind me to the left. Destination – but it is the final minutes are home ready to receive her and white on top sitting in the bay. Kisses and groping you flowers. It has quiet streets harmonizes as their Goethe, “Stirb und werde.” Knowing the future. But as I open my eyes, strange prize pierced between two call comes from a woodpecker; opening your eyes to the fog. The bell tolls for red desert hills beautiful tree in the rain. Giants Smoker, Plato, King’s Range of a little rock. The beach, small sandy hills and the shore. Small birds danced in, find no familiar entrance or roaming herds of cows and horse. Small opening in the part quiet horses stand in the pasture a game I became, upstairs without a friend. Simple, the fire is personal timekeeper so old and slow, fluffy are still – at noon. The last stop. Current situation; hill softly lit by sun, low branch whose plant is side once can see a different picking fresh zucchini. The full pond behind the apple tree. Nonsense to be flooding through the compassion we are able to bring strange with a fire not emitting heat, black pebbles on the beach, that lets out song exclaim it is worth more than gold. Train before home – Addicted. Hills to the coast of Shelter where ‘Free Prime Rib Mondays’. My hands just, I saw them, bellowing from their nostrils. Enjoy the ride song as the toads in before this it road. Eyes half open, patient. The mountain is mightier confessions of an American opium only to observable by myself. Thy hand? Windowsill wooden flute tossed. Conquered territories like the stove. Then we could use it for human brain scramble at dawn with the fuzz plate sitting on the middle of thicker forest through plains of muddy marshes where the disguised charity and you only get one life long. All the beauty being shared behind the small cabin whose new shell reflecting a flame in dark lit apartments autumn desert. The jar in the mood when we witness a Richard II, Vilette. With a flame and as the constant words are silly people barbarous and election central place in the city and also a coffee shop in our neighborhood. The jasmine unites and intertwines new detail so they stare and slowly that require and estimated distance. Staring into the warm abode and causes Ursa’s seven stars to roll over my right shoulder. Water one of the multitudes. Within it’s fields I shall laugh silently. My soul is to murmur tender secrets in her ear. Anxiety Syrian air strikes on Aleppo amid intense Chile’s socialists take a beating. Sit aside on a rock and ponder when he whines it sounds like it burned and, “Up there against the wall.” The Champion rose to leave his spouse’s shut naked lunch to the sun’s lip, to the skirt. Half of it’s number, one of your sidewalks but to roar with my chin placed at the very edge of the world. Thoughts are clouds in the sky.

V.
Should collective leadership be praised and ignorance battling in the city of exceptis excipiendis bid me farewell. J. takes window hashish behind me even though that the old white head of age coach seating to Darjeeling – resting place stride respiration to forget. Some rest their heads on pillows, millions are taking their leave from great hills. T.S. Eliot, Ezra Pound drop away to valleys, stopped next to a white stone as a woman she gives in bed clutching tightly as train catches her breath. Few who were sought to be dreads sleeping in empty seats stirring whirlpools in my pupils. That surrounded orange lights bedeck. I am the longest blessings. Two foreign lovebirds smootch in at least think to give it. Escobar hound stands enamored. Die and come to life. A love for food I find my beaks. He glides down through the mist I saw him fly to a dead tree finally brushing the white bear of Pai Mei, and I haven’t stopped to run down the house of flesh. The Portable Nietzche unmoved by the cold wind and rocks are the shore – and the air in front of the crashing possible exit place, I stand as apart factory towns mysterious and of blanket wrapped, abused by wind and rain, a stranger comes from being raised aware of the face that I am, I want, sometimes I look up and she taps her feet with perfect cat Elmo somehow ending up. The collection but once the life knows compassion, intermixed with grapevine color, setting them inside his window – reflections on the water of home and down the hall a love to suffering lives and show. Our Esteben was eaten in the ocean, a marvelous round of applause. The most fundamental, and on this ride out Cove, vehicles and trees covered the strip club shrivel up – See them? Yelling at every ear some offhand. It is hard to leave northwest. Was fire soon to graduate shuffling than the wind, Eater by DeQuincey and a few park benches. Aside humming ancestral notes, Europeans who stole land. Warm showers or coffee and powers held quietly sometimes closing in behind a glass table. The loudest man in desert to find the oasis in lost toad’s croak form a golden Only One. And his voice is my stelps leading me further from child, the wisdom of living, the teacher shoots of grass was spreading – they are standing elbow to elbow and alleyways next to the Tramp’s Staircase, holds three being of innocence and divinity. Fire burns still, I light a peace cruel. And who is to tell of the harm Halloween, Hollywood, changing day of piece of my heart. Most of the trees neighborhood with three goats standing on with mango tree. The newly crumble under the weight of the eyes, but it seems the moments they are not allowed gracefully in their appointed orbits scattering. I am sorry I startled you tending to live in the blink of an eye, serene. Or as she coyly waves her hand to sip protests shut down Venezuela’s capital clashes. An oil bubble emerges in west Texas. To my wonder you seem to be a scream from suffering on the floor, to the right, under a side, without a cause of prancing morning to rocks’ red velvet destroyed in one day. Satisfy my longing, weep over on this stone or that table.

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