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■ The oak
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turning aside I twist the black paper margins
surrounded by a dyspepsic pale-green membrane ungular jackdaws dive in my mouth like guppies feeding my circuits divisible by two gutta-percha hollows they shift a map in ityphallic shaped curve climb the stairs... one-two-three! do you feel the heat? enclosed lands pierce acutely lambrequins of folded skin sipping my west with large glossy venturi tubes measuring my east in blood waves try not to examine the oxygen supply! ups and downs split thunders on a plate of rivers dash deep waters under your forefinger until the tongue of dust widens more shelters for ugly bugs and then you squeeze the remains of bubbles of that greasy gum out of their wrinkles in a blissful rage against the machine he has been following you since you were a dumb child crying mother all the time then one poor widow came and put all these on a quadrain his eyes bulge with abundance mild looks cut the viscous flow of words exposing air letters in geometric shields going round my whole body as in a book of adventures walking my blood to the pacific ocean and back and the wind blesses my boat on a bluish string. she asks waters about it. waxed shivers enwrap the evening in a croquet of grimaces sunset hated me too accordingly she pinches the string as if she scratched a vitrail imprint with her nails my guard reads my last name on a plaque sailing south thinking about how much I hated my brother who used to cut my thai-doll's hair like strips of organza on a spring dress you see, he wears my necklace of shells alluvial matter garments his carousel with mine, at high pressure for another snow-fall to come.
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