Fig.Once) Rome in a day Paper's lost it's crease, cheap pearls and diamond false from teeth. To go, to collapse beneath it's own free weight, to crumple like a bird. Let's call the home desk, we've got a quitter he's sitting right here. The windows so bright as day goes by. Low as the lonely mouth of Satan goes, it's just not the same. Nearly even, parts in the even sky. Deep in the red stream, get me some gothic script for mah generous daddy belly, that's human life to you. We're Not the strongest breeze, the windows not so tall, let's try the door. The bell is broke and stoop is hopeless. Women march alone. "Counting court," she says. "Let's never once," she knows why, "never ever be stopped along the road and meet a king." "This can be the way that vanity works." she leans back. "This is the thing about them kings. Kings are never more, I in the wine," she leans back again, wishi...