LETTER IN APRIL: IV – Already on the street with our money clutched in our hands, and the world is a white laundry, where we are boiled and wrung, and dried and ironed, and smoothed down, and forsaken we sweep back in children’s dreams of chains and jail, and the heartfelt sigh of liberation, and in the spark trails of feelings, the fire eater the cigarette swallower come to light, and we pay and distance ourselves with laughter.
BLUE POLES – Tonight, away begins to go farther away, and the dream what do we know of the dream, metallic leaps Jackson Pollock, silvery streams Jackson Pollock, I gaze across the sea, see in the distance your walk and you pass the Pacific, distant and blue, phallus and Moloch pace my view on into otherness, on into otherness? Are we in the world after or before, are we or are we not magnetic force, it is apparently me you inform: genesis woman dream that begins, tonight to go farther away, tonight to reach farther away, metallic leaps Jackson Pollock, silvery streams Jackson Pollock, on across the blue sea.
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