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No Reason at All

by: Daniel Hedges

Out amidst the orchard of choice, we dabble in requiems and font
styles. We concentrate our thoughts until they become
aluminum charms in semantic worlds, word-worlds
away. We point to repetition as a charismatic
device and alouette to the Mid-West for no
reason at all. The grammarian sticklers
peruse the catalogue of noise for new
rituals of austere Julep and make is
possible for agrammarian humanimals
to rise up in ironic rapture.