capistrate paste! he yelled at the poison, the poison yelled back. there were four thousand feet, made of clay, hanging on the ledges of his palace to remind her of rain and photos. he clings so hard to the unopened box; the cardboard has weakened and now resembles the skin of an elderly florist. the tractor is covered in rust. the pinwheels are squirting green oil which collects on his skull and tickles his brain so that he runs to the trampoline and bounces and bounces and bounces... 040621 what's it to you? who go blather from