What Does The Oracle Ask Herself?

A word what is wind that is blackest from the dole, the darkest cradles whose rudders were meeting in the red fire of a dusk's treeless horizoning beckon to foam not indecently upon the teeming knitted kids, those sea goats hushed with kernals all aglittering, those sea goats with skins of opal teeth whose perplexing message was the sound of sirens killing one another for the pleasure of the killing, for the measure of the slanting of the hoof is no where measured but in the body of the mountains whose body is for frothing sky, and for the doubling of something important noted in its prejudices, namely, that the sibyll be different in some manner, but the question is to that sibyll, and the question inside the sibyll is for frothing sky, whose sibyll cannot lay beside the sea goats whose skin of opal teeth are the books of the wedding of the wind of the cradle of the dole of the darkening, a word what wind carries over sirence, sileni to marr any open field for closure here is the chaining of its sense to rock-like saddles where the pelvis in the cloister works like a mortar to blend the herbal tranexamics, no, to bleed the caudal trankums of their meeting, no, for the doubling proceeds from that gay abundance's joyous tranect, the traghetto upon the singling of its wide varietals, the most every all we'd lost, will lose, have longed for continuously in more solemn and thickly rendered glasses, those big and perfectly real hearts of mineral song. We enter the cavern to chafe their stony rows with our eyes now once again the sea goats in the notes of the question, notes that drown in the fullness of the empty thumping play of the yawping knife of the line as it gathers impetusk and clusters to the mountring spraym, a frampold becleop at raw war whose aspen fondlure trills ever blandishing among the stone-like stomach houses of the cry, all widely sought, the sense in the dot now carried by the runner to the end less din-like in the wrath of the candor of the duna fern's furnishing, their weird antlers become perplexing buildings. I could have wished the author had added notes.