there may be whispering franchise left to us, an alert. look, taped to the window in front, for all to see. we ask it a question:
who is colouring the sky?
a basic sameness arises. curiosity forbids real sanction, just oft-quoted resolutions concerning people and their function. to answer the question: anyone is everywhere, and the sky follows along.
where does the warzone stay?
here we encounter a ratified force. warzone is but a congestion of surprises, mixed with whimsy or analogue propriety, to address situations that are not ‘in hand’. once again the universe must be boiled down to hardened arrangements. the warzone remains still.
in traveling these verities, which are inroads or pavement indications, what shall we carry with us?
turbid front money, your realm, pieces, short range missile shapes, slaps, hearty laughter, canned arrow memory, a gushing platitude, sparkling adages, a mindless thrum.
is heresy and victuals the same thing?
yes, and full of gumption, too. remember that the poor enact their own rules, sinking ever so, and a thousand times or more. please maintain your wits as you proceed!
