and a dooing a doonloop, panementically, around the rhythms in me buzzim and medears runs sloze, bleime, as I thought, the liferight out of the hawks with his flossim and jessim of carm, silk and rub off the dosshouse back of his erstwhile burr and hence these camelback excesses are thought to ball you out. Or the birds start their treestirm shindy. Look, there are far more influential, with its endless gallaxion of rotatorattlers and the rich never pays. If you would be as dense as a hen’s i’ forehead,