in flitters 49 bits from B*ck*tt

"in flitters 49 bits from B*ck*tt album by Jordan Glenn on Archodia Music"

Release Date: 2023-11-07T00:00:00.000000Z

  • the long greens and yellows
  • Hunchy Hackett
  • I am scarcely the outer world
  • not sure that it was not a parcel
  • there were connoisseurs
  • preferred to have his back to his destination
  • Watt’s was a funambulistic stagger
  • science of the locked door
  • a fine full apron of green baize
  • and he sits in the red gloom
  • premonitions of harmony are irrefragable
  • the Laurel into Daphne
  • modes of ululation – bitter, hollow, mirthless
  • onions and peppermints – turn and turn about
  • figments of the id
  • all the gold and white and blue
  • choon the piano
  • a ravanastron hung, on the wall, from a nail, like a plover
  • the strings are in flitters
  • simple games that time plays with space
  • this hairbreadth departure
  • a little plated trowel
  • the stairs that never seemed the same stairs
  • a pillow of old words, for a head
  • a little off the hooks
  • a picture hanging on the wall, from a nail
  • the circle sailed steadfast in its white skies, with its patient breach forever below
  • like the centuries that fall, from the pod of eternity
  • tenth-rate xenium
  • a fragment of rigmarole reread
  • this long chain of consistence
  • the three frogs
  • the theatre of a similar conglutination
  • floccillating his hard hat
  • red, bluer, yellowist
  • in our windowlessness, in our bloodheat, in our hush
  • through this jocose this sniggering muck
  • peers in peace
  • except in moments of delirium, or during the service of the mass
  • the sun, so long obnubilated
  • The Mathematical Intuition of the Visicelts
  • two by two the eyes put forth their curious beams
  • an occasional raucous sally
  • the issuing smokes mingled to vanish
  • the fricatives in particular were pleasing
  • the grey air aswirl with vain entelechies
  • in his skull the voices whispering their canon were like a patter of mice
  • Watt was an old rose now, and indifferent to the gardener
  • threne