A Transquill Destiny Unfolds

{(forgive this cheese)}

It is as if its face were
drawn tight around the thing,
the stem terminating in a
blindness borne of the
religion of drunkeness,
or drawing (string),
the trees in spring
as visited by wildhead
knights with bat names,
the perfectly unknown
way it deployed an in-
telligence not avail-
able to the com-
mon ordinary cit-
izen.

Each section is created by an oblique method, and the plans ruined,
and the maker itself, not given the means to act upon what it
has seen. The further remembrance of the corpse of

|leath| & |fede|

\\

True fish
wish an onion.

Two sick
celebrations
finish the single
day.

The black onion
is left at large,
its hard gem-
like eye rem-
oved, the place
where the seed
bearers rest
for awhile am-
idst the long
procession,
where the road
turns rocky
and begins to climb,
winding upward
into the oceans
of barest abandon-_-

`'^&*(#)...
~'~'~'~'~'~'~~~Y: Terras

^^^^^^^^^^Spheragmo[is]t

___________________________

It is as if its own face
were at the bottom of the
cup, and that the cup was
the depression out of which
rang the cause. How is a
raven much like a writing
desk?


~'~'~'~'~'~'
.[non desk sky].
~'~'~'~'~'~'





image title: _From Moral Physiocracy to Urban Design_