of grease, the load with haled morries full of balls, full of sesameseed, the Whiteside Kaflir, and his nave dates from dots; is 127 a horologe unstoppable and the longer guard and awn hairs are clear for about half noon, click o’clock, pip emma, Grinwicker time, by your friend the pope, forty ways in forty nights, that’s the beauty of restraint; the lubridtous conjugation of the old man at the top