R/ckets and S/ntries

it's time to bite the apple, time to fit the round, time to lean on a tree, time to shore up presence, time to ignore the path as other paths denote. you figure loss animates whole spectacles and running into hobbits acting bravely, for the scene turns on them. aliens are only crunchy cereal thing, fodder fame while we ignite the perceptual beacon. on and on we go with a grasp of the hovering needed. bombs called every family known to the table. bombs called character a debatable treatise. bombs called to say hello. we've waved at paths again, trading snide shots for giving membane. it will tussle and tell us plenty. it's for going on, in the poetry climate that makes so much of making so much. it's just a lump fish trying to breathe. hesitation is uncalled for.