Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Trundle-in-the-Jungle/ Bundles of Tuft, Moons, Rift, Rust, Mist, Thrust & Padua
Edwina, please... in the wild, unity is paramount and, as syntactic interval, composed of two colae, the simplest possible combo of inventive-- nay, tidy-- sign unity
our own lunar mores con us into misperceiving song, time, space, race, rage, folio, scope, rope and feral thematic intent. Holy Moley!
No! We must not be vexed by the omnipresent. when atemporal succession, discernible in only our dimension/ world-- sequences, correspond to, say, linear elements in banter, & one can be easily delighted by the brilliant verisimilitude that appear as paragraph flourishes, and/or as stanzas limit and re-define wild profusion of thematic mass. WHOMP. Whoa! whump, clump, thump, Winnebago!
Trula-trula fair. Menopausal. Mnemonically speaking: I'll/ take Mountbatten.