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Spelunking yet again in youthanasia one finds tidbits of what was, yelling and canting and decanting. All manner of glimpses and complaints and loves filled into and fallen out of. Poetry, yes, but with the emphasis on try. Lilting wannabe snippets of doggerel which leave the dog yearning instead for cat?
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|Product dimensions:||6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.13(d)|
About the Author
Having beached the whale of my solo starship on this watered rock I passed the time, from time to time, trying out a strange language to see if meaning was even possible in it. Apparently not! Escape pod ready I thought to leave a shell or two amongst the broken glass.