Its fiction bends over to take a photograph of hyacinths in Levi’s Plaza.
See how the hyacinths lean in toward slimmer cameras recognizing he
likes to squeeze in his pillows and finds this interesting as you nor I do.
Seagulls needn’t worry their cherry blossoms. Grackles are all nondescript.
The paragraphs in which he capriciously stops to photograph the purple
the purple bumblebees (the miniature purple pineapples). These stops
and starts takes a blade to the jeans his jeans. Its cobblestones dusted with
cherry blossom petals only when they ripped. He stays put for a few minutes
just hugging the blue pillow. Virginia Woolf gets very little sunshine as
this business of words sounds alarms back in Berkson. Warmest ever
these tops of trees bends over the roiling river sweltering at 2:30pm.
