R/ckets and S/ntries

wars personal rock lent credence to the drone. mirth infests the rocket science that we tear into as a meal for time. lauighing murder war tunes, then space of a dime. no, in the space of a dollar, while wounds heal. words, that is. in the space of many dollars, all the time in the world. it is alien even to pronounce. the aspect of delivery while bombs thenselves are transport. confused national distrust as a product made in the United, etc. without aliens as spells. looks difficult to read thru the dismay. everyone's caught in the drama and make it news. the war's at it, now. big deal.

being inside the drone of door and forgetting each sentence even as spoken. then a perception as red as quiet ink, referring any ways at all as close. then being same in a text, reading left to right mostly. then the change as begun, notes in a flute, the pouring of drums. then a peaceful march into Nepal and Tibet, brash investigation, the whole nine yards. then the rules for richness, squired while protecting, looser as documents show. and all the while languge, the heart of the matter, presumes the sport of night. we'll land shortly, the aliens say. they mean that they will begin sometime, in our time. we've only some in words to go. then a paragraph, whatever that might be.

lauchpad, which directs that time doesn't stand for us. the crash of something puts across many theories, fuzzy till repeating. the launch is poured for time, to instruct as you enter the age of age. but the exit means a little Rama, a little what of that, a little roam when you are near forgiving. tired language comes to the point of saying when a poem makes your friend. friends are uneasy in this instant what to say. is death only forgiving the time it took us? it could be the launch itself, after word and words along. and launching is just the freer radiant for more than power means. we aren't as love as we could try, all the way to say. love dad a lot for going, mother led the way. no secret is involved.

buy deep at the end of every season. choose deep. choose a country, a nation, and say you are owned. or owner, the difference doesn't turn. and say you are father and mother both, having been to the war in terms. say you are language, since you serve. or since you don't, but you've seen rope. say that there's a terror in forgiving it. say that. take a spoon and taste that. say that you were once trouble and kind, both. say you said everything once, then forget. say you are father in forgetting then feel that in a minute. the minute is long. say that you know that minute. say then that the minute has your home and house, your terms, your might, your soon and together. say anything till you reason. blend and sing. try poetry as every word. season your difference with an earnest weight of word. forgive as you can, then a little more. say you more.

create new father. left words are dire same. lots of remember your name, son. son is parting in cloud, forget and make. cover tradition in father word, elastic as the years in deeds. mother word is a dead moment once for all. once for dying plenty certainly. new father looks the look, every inch is a new year and tribe. old father was years ago, the landing never happened. new father in an inch of time, barely an inch. want you to know the name you were given, you were Allen when you told him.