Saturday, February 06, 2010


that way Mona finds voice in the infnite choice of event to become its own pleasing cape and the runaway sound of the Dialectic roaring its draconian sound! Not Marconi and his cable but the twittering of beaks at dawn. Not the silver lust of dusk, the owl's angel and the hay hydra of hauched lover's. Lissome to the fair tracking of this face.

If the Event is the daily Dialectic of the world will then she's certain to hide her pap on the fen of its toothsome grind, her _ No no break its hinder and find the __ no no break it! Fool the phone! the phone made became flesh! you fowl! Kindly see on.