The Canadian Voice Is Still Too Rustic.

The Flowers Are Ravined By Bees, The Fruit Blossoms Are Thrown To The Ground, The Wind The Rain Forces Everything.

Dead, Hung Up Indoors, The Kingfisher Will Not Indicate A Favoring Wind, Or Avert The Thunderbolt.

O.k. I'm Running Out Of Appetite. Let This Swirl- A Bit Like Crab Nebula- Do For Now.

You Can Do Anything, Really. And That, L Think, Is One Of The Exciting Possibilities Of The Present, L Swear, Is The Possibility That The Goddamn Thing Can Be Modaled Throughout.

What Does Not Change Is The Will To Change