Monday, July 12, 2004

main mumble in a line of poetic rambles, that being the serial transformation until Election Day (elaborate asymptote). when finished with effect, all the pieces unconverge. their going masks a ritual by placing form into condition, like the distance between dance partners as determined by cultural throes. thirsting for news of a relief column, yet ready to evacuate the city, but it really doesn't clear up the vestiges. language's steely might might include us, it might include us out. our various resources seem less than 'enough'. our angels weren't the ones to talk.

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