Barbara Eden, and the patient
Jeanie,
rerunning maternal gin runs on our
trek to Horace Dall’s
Who pedaled the breadth of Iceland (
1933), and bent his 39cm
Cassegrain
to the spheres—Exceeding
Bearing a benevolent affinity to a gomphothere; due to dentition, perhaps
to his hindgut’s inventory of
Sainbury’s avocado
Pears, after a particularly profane session —The only airman that got to
the top of the mountain of a shipwreck by morphine syrettes, whose invectives
shake in 117, and in the next door 119 avocado
Windowsill
tripods, bringing tears; further than this zone to be
productive, this outpost of psychiatry clearing
Radio Gourevitch—Heaving oil-slick coffee and missense of
breakfast odorants in the first months in the untended back garden; a waste
ground beholden to the intentions of the
green woodpecker pair battering their
rams into a fence post
Misheard; for the cavity of a
rowan—Where there is no rightful
mode for a
third in a madhouse—Genie,
Our host, listless until restorative twilight, and brought around by
speculation of the red planet’s oxidizing cyanobacteria; recalling a gridded
facsimile of methane snow in the entry to Willesden Green—With methodology of
printing Saturn’s rings
ongoing, we spoke of the Martian impeded by
ferrous eruptions blanketing the Sun, as on Earth exceeding
Its
rust belt circumscribed in our bitten mouths; there were no other
colleagues, but from the desperation of progress notes—Exceeding
Magnetized brains of oceangoing
loggerheads, or anemic strays clipping
pedestrians with their bikes energized by that
petroleum-derived drink made
from
girders—Enzymatic browning of the plate’s sheathed cubes of avocado
Exacting taste; inopportunely, the lemon was left out of the evening’s
shopping—Forgoing the
fer wine whose rootstock resists pruning, or the bottle
of red plaited into a fiasco—What was thought to be a footnote to that evening;
the
Schiefspiegler, averting shadows of a second mirror of the
Dall–Kirkham
Telescope, reduces this
instant's
windings through eternity—A horse-ridden symphysis posing mechanical
clearings
Excavated from a forensic dig’s unfused
pelvis read as the
points of
antlers; ever since taking this post
Observing from this vantage, a parting of the valence, this autumn red
fruit of the rowan; planted by the birds to keep churchyards patent—
Chondrules
of lunar impacts of
backbone enjoined in rubberized cement pushing back into
the solid masses of paper-thin walls; getting
Claude (the Creep) started,
again—Genie,
Suspecting her paternity Danish, reads from a monograph in therapy on
Thorvaldsen—Jeanie,
Proclivities to skewer the lengths of our human avoidance, she can be
very perceptive—For forty years,
Simone Melchior Cousteau posted
Eight portholes from the bow of the
Calypso glimpsing
oceanic whitetips now grottoed in the iron braces of the Busner heirloom
resounding as a timbrel—Live births of the dolphin-like
ichthyosaur from
Jurassic Blue Lias at Dorset (
1811), its cover flanked by waves, and cleaving
the Seder leviathan—Avocado
Species surrounded the Galápagos archipelago, whose
San Cristóbal and Floreana mockingbirds, much larger than finches, decided the billing of
the Second Voyage of the
Beagle (1831-1836)—Horace Dall
Filtered Herschel’s notes for mirrored and telephoto objectives; warily,
you repeat what Lieutenant Evenrude remarked among shrieks of the
fissionable delivery in
July 1945 approaching at 17 knots—Awake, in the
clearing
The dusted American History Museum
model
of
Jaws (1974) in a forward crawl—Anticipated by the childishly innocent
Henry De la Beche’s
fish lizards (1830) after the findings of a fraught girl;
struck from her nurse’s arms by lightning, in the mien of Jeanie
When speaking of her mother, who pieces bestrewn cordage of the
plesiosaur (1823)—Venatic labors of Leonardo’s infant self
suckling the tail of
a
vulture—In a maddeningly obstinate justification by a young bride in bitter
novilunium; not calling for Horace Dall’s
Focal lengths, shutter a curious groundwork of
Knock Knock—Introjection
on the totemic
Strong Sun Moon between June and July, where nothing would seem
further apart than
Picus Martius in Hebe’s tree
discharging nails, with
incidentals for the twin founders apart from the wolf—Exceeding
The case history's channeling all these years, the Capitoline
replicas
Mussolini posted
To American museums—Of Woody Woodpecker’s debut (July 7, 1941) voiced by
the creator’s wife,
Mrs.
Lantz, who is borne to the funny farm with
salt on his tail—Was it depth
psychology's alchemical match, if unsatisfied, given the example of the paired
fruit, avocado—
Trouget, or the eyeing Martian, seated alone at bar of the Plantation Club—
Avocado
Stones, once nurtured by Doris Lessing as Martha Quest; complaining of the
space between the steering column—
She
stood up to her knees in heavy mud, the red thick water closed below her
shoulders (1954), with the rete mirabile filling and clearing
Chambers of giraffes in the distance—From the
Beagle II rover scheduled
to land Christmas 2003, posted
From the
Isidis sink turning up twelve years hence; then, the
stations will be
epitomized as Jean Genie’s
Smorgasbord of imagined Americana (1972)—With you,
and wearing your
holograph, in the module toward the angled polar cap, where water yields its
upper limits, for the Moon and Earth’s
transit of the Sun (
November 10,2084)—Horace Dall’s
Lenses were polished with diamond dust, and
reproduce the effects of
tlitliltzin,
the
ergotamine of the
morning glory, which
contracts its reverential vacuum
exceeding
The avocado’s climacteric, with our cuttings—Exceeding the sandblasted iron
facing and
peristyles of this
apocalyptic Marah—Standing before feeding
pavilions of
argonauts in
paper crinolines tipped with iron gall inks, where
Venetian accounting ledgers and arcana pose no such risk of oxidation—
Quite possibly, groomed toward
djinni efficiency; improbably, by the
woodpecker’s
tongue that travels over the skull; below, the third band of the
post-commissure, for discretion,
Becoming
the red speck in the fertilized egg, where our desert
camel wonders,
retroverts in a clearing in the body, as the spatial period of a
wave (λ) on
Horace Dall’s planetary oases—
4 comments:
Some encountered species since "Caterpillar", and tonight, with the Gemini full moon spotlighting my Chiron:
http://www.ukbutterflies.co.uk/species.php?species=lucina
http://www.inaturalist.org/taxa/70128-Sphinx-pinastri
http://butterfly-conservation.org/51-1583/true-lovers-knot-.html
When I work the night shift, I feel like I am in a space environment. Physiological cues are blunted, and every room I enter has a television blasting at night in each patient's private theater of sleep. I turn off the television when I know someone is asleep.
One thing I notice is that I am not tired, per se, but very, very hungry in the morning. I wanted to pull over and have a giant omelet with Gruyère and mushrooms with a dirty Bloody Mary...with olive brine and extra olives, no tequila. The elder Weber azul agave plant is trimmed down to its heart to ferment for those head-splitting, pro-inflammatory congeners.
https://www.gruyere.com/en/fabrication/partners-in-the-gruyere-aop-association/the-gruyere-aop-cows#:~:text=Within%20the%20Gruy%C3%A8re%20AOP%20network,to%20her%20by%20her%20breeder.
https://www.nature.com/articles/s41574-022-00747-7
This is a temporary solution. No long-term Circadian misalignment for me.
"Auroras on the planet Uranus are caused when charged particles from the sun interact with the planet’s magnetic field the same way they do on Earth. The particles are funneled along magnetic field lines toward the magnetic poles. When they enter the Uranian atmosphere, the charged particles bump into atmospheric molecules. This causes the molecules to glow.
'The dominant gasses in Uranus’ atmosphere are hydrogen and helium and they are at much lower temperatures than on Earth. The presence of these gasses at these temperatures cause Uranus’ auroras to predominantly glow at ultraviolet and infrared wavelengths. By comparison, auroras on Earth come from oxygen and nitrogen atoms colliding with the charged particles and the colors are mostly blue, green, and red and can generally be seen with the human eye at the right latitudes.
Uranus and Neptune are unusual planets in our solar system because their magnetic fields are misaligned with the axes in which they spin. Astronomers haven’t found an explanation for this, but clues could lie in Uranus’s aurora."
I am finishing this, tonight:
https://www.google.com/books/edition/Wildscape/AmudEAAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=Wildscape%20%22emerald%20moth%20caterpillar%22&pg=PT261&printsec=frontcover
https://loudounwildlife.org/2013/07/wavy-lined-emerald-moth-master-of-disguise/
https://books.google.com/books?id=krPaEAAAQBAJ&printsec=frontcover&dq=Accidental+Astronomy+Lintott&hl=en&newbks=1&newbks_redir=0&source=gb_mobile_search&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiC8_XB8N2HAxVaL1kFHa3WA0gQ6AF6BAgNEAM#v=onepage&q=Accidental%20Astronomy%20Lintott&f=false
I was directed from the Basic Books imprint from Sharman Apt Russell's An Obsession with Butterflies (2003). The nonsense with pantheism aside, I will enjoy this quick read for content, and maybe pick something I didn't not know to expand.
Her father was Millburn Apt, who, after exceeding Mach 3, crash landed the Bell X-2 Starbuster in the Mojave Desert at Edward's AFB (26 September 1956).
https://books.google.com/books?id=ItIWgIpnVR8C&printsec=frontcover&dq=An+Obsession+with+Butterflies+Russell+%22Glanville%22&hl=en&newbks=1&newbks_redir=0&source=gb_mobile_search&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiN4LD18N2HAxVrEFkFHYuHKFAQ6AF6BAgLEAM#v=onepage&q=An%20Obsession%20with%20Butterflies%20Russell%20%22Glanville%22&f=false
A footnote to the X-2 is that the pilot lost control, and could eject prior to crash-landing.
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