We're laying these out where the ground is tender and our time has been frustrated, we're saying this.
fig.2.13)These two holes are beside an effortless description of a soulless machine Let's lay waste to the comedy of modernism by watching poor Peggy, with her pistol of sadness and the sack of ape eyed tears that made of us each a burly home. Poor poor farm of malls shorn from the fields of food left at the end of town. Little box, aimless courageous little smoker smoking the oil, smoke. To the house on the water I'm going and I won't be home soon Going down on strangers, it's written here on the back of my hand The watch in the book is broken and that bird on my pillow is not Gone around this whole ship and the waves in the water are wet too I've crossed the sea just to tell you That I'm out here swimming alone Today's about over I'm going down there The way to the water is simple Even if it's been a bit of a mess before this Where there's ham and bricks of misogyny on the board of that tub there will be garlic in the stov