Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Jill has a crow but it's not dead. The sea is high as the wind clutter and the rail tussled up against the factotum of weights and the red plight of the scar .... Jill's won her red as long as long as she remembers the thrust of freight
and the tiller boring the straight sea ... there's no one here in the tail of the barracuda thundering does it thunder she's asking
but her heart beat wondering at the awkward glance of the geese the queer walk of the gull over an ice piece-meal in the winter's almost ending .
Something like that anyhow! colis!detabernacle! Franny'd never wonder she'd moved it along like an old poor or something
like a ringbaily simile circus
Franny wouldn't worry . She'd buck it along like any two cent novel.
Posted by C Duffy at 18.3.15