mais bien la cuisinière dans laquelle on a brûlé quelque chose...
"Sin is past murder,
or equal, Ilse, Pascal
quenches my being
in a dancing cuisine
equal to any burning."
"See this nest of lemurs
daring airs of equal ills,"
said Ilse, "What the past
quells, quiet choosing
may begin.."
H.D. looked up from his newspaper.
He imagined her in a tub like a Matisse;
red wallpaper, a fur, or a bust, perhaps.
Ilse whispered., "I'm queasy
near your blue, and burning,
dances, whatever ilk they choose.."
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Irrony Observes The Earthing.