Loaf's Salutation

Barchans go on droughting in Yagyakarta sods outpaced here I throw a soliton in gaze-mirage * Here we stand on this, the Lee of Dual Sandhorns { and they the Phantom Tips of those horns they know what you say - such fees to demand and how you shall pay no dues! I’d rather make alive downward facing forms of genesis! I know, I do know of raining beyond the slip face, of angles reposed to the honest tenor of our shared Ocean Sky, where the firmament congeals to dream postures of Carretera Interoceanica where pools in the cool shade of memories that yet are to be remember of strange filaments, of knees reclining and worn to urn-dust in their riggings, reduced to the once-wet bones of Joshua ash and yet! i r i d e s c e n t s t r e a m s punch through the utmost firmness of form - coalesced in situ hubrisae, borne still upon gusts of human wresting, human heft en masse like all your favorite waves of sound, water and light slammed by force into prophecies that might release - and so unseen be, like Zastruga-dew trees or this home we call Kzynda.