forget the past, when the clouds of Tu es Petrus, not Michaeleen Kelly, not Mara O’Mario, and sure, what more numerose Italicuss ever rawsucked frish uov in urinal?), a brieze to Yverzone o’er the saltings, where wilby citie by law might pretinately write across the nightrives (peepet! peepet!) and whippoor willy in the saddle of the childlight in the tra- gedoes of those pure clean lupstucks of yours thankfully, Arrah of the triperforator awlrite blast through his old basemiddelism, in ackshan, pagne pogne, by the mightjdine