Sunday, August 28, 2005

High Mountains

In moments we will go. I throw myself slowly down. Noon was here behind the clouds. Something else was on my mind, saved from the postcard. Anticipate an interlewd in Holland. That will be something. It won't be Egypt. It won't be high mountains. It may be the unpublished writings if such a thing exists. Such a thing is a complete waste of time. It all is. It is all high motoring including bitter changes with the police. The time is fast approaching. I will move like lightning between raindrops in the immediate future casting my own shadow like an oracle.

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