Faded Houses Green

Reading Ulysses in Montana #423

With bacon and butter, you no longer need to imagine the marginal gain from partial differences in the morning sunshine.

Moonshine is a different story altogether, but then it would be given the historical context you find yourself in every month end or so. Withered withers bespoke the last of its country fairs of fair maidens and clunky knights in the armor of sausages and spiral hams. Detested contestants of ancient mariners took the A’s into extra innings where the albatross fluttered over the outfield as the local eye in the sky, asking why the lights are so dim. You finally breathe a sigh of desire when the eye of the fire unleashes the tiger of destiny.

But whatever you did with the bacon and butter did what needed doing in resolving the partial differences in the evening sunset, the afternoon sunset being so long forgotten.