ira lightman

/ubu editions

WHEN boards fall, seeming alive wood in carved originals shaken to dust also, are spiritbone set carveries called to flotation of fiefs' strategems, what tongues the gravity's endgame deprived of songs omnipresent loom spinning bend overruled until zero is analogously not remains martyr impatient chickens

I WANDER unlonely for featherfish in me fly consciously as balloonists in too much mist enjoy a little inland from the sea's crash on a hill fluffy white spreads, instantly in sunken daftness postponing whither next when arrested I thence medium will coincide.


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