Saturday, August 20, 2005
Maybe it exists and maybe it is just a pile of damp rags and old carpets rolled up and thrown into a corner of the basement. The problem with an office is going to it. I will go around to the other side to order the etching and enter with the lanky farmer through the cool shadowy gate onto the hot high horizon of meadow above the invisible sea.
Posted by MICHAELWRITES at 10:06 PM