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Monday, February 23, 2004

the fine breakdown of use into personable pieces creates a backlog mobility, pray for rain. rain would loosen the heck from these snows, ending the season in time. if time grows more cogent, spring would always remain, but we've woven into mass, collected atoms, made a move. such moves predict an offering, a politics of tired ramparts and talk too much into the night. night closes when sun on treetops, bright red cardinal. winter seizes simply, after we think. we think further, as spring is another age. we think age, as spring is winter once again. trusting the logic that trusts the logic, we arrive at a point, furthermore and sacrosanct. it's all so sacrosanct. tillage and mud. that's Iraqi blood to defer to when we talk of going on. that's children not espoused. that's bother in campaign, while West Virginia (for example) loosens free. I guess I better save the country,? sighs Ralph Nader, to pin one thing to another.

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