Friday, September 19, 2003

the vacuum will hold. the internal nature walk, the pleasant sunday, the spacious evening with rain to come, all will require only minimum, the life of our structure. inner sentence will hold, for duty doesn't just tell us the news, it creates it. suddenly France isn't Indochina. we weren't on board at the time. stray pieces of the puzzle become worthy of clearing. today's joy is a remonstrance, or a bomb. a blast has been said. the guilty parties are gases lighter than air. that is not to revile but to plan. we can all fall from the sky, and it's not a surreal nuance to see this plan. the trick is definite: it is definition. who rules this nation, and when did this nation become? let an alien see your name at night. the ship will hold.

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