Friday, April 21, 2017

Edward Posset's Conversation With The Wind


i am the wind, edward posset


you do not know me wind; i am not your syllabub


i am the dry lane of your lame life, deal ivory con mot


i am edward posset, wind, state your case or go


i am the moving thresher, weird and eaten head-edward, guardian


i cannot recall you, and furthermore, if an eye at the end of a stalk were to view you, what would it view? shadows themselves course in my veins.


you are vain, built no-thing, the nothingness pervasive is my heavy name


and by that same token, rather rigidly intent thing, what difference is there i ask between us?


edward!


sand hag! literarily derivative arihagne-wind-voice thing!
you are no better than i!


o duarte..
won't you do art?


well i should 
if i would i guess
increasingly sinister
wind bag..













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