Mister winter came back. we thought he wld. wild winter does as he shld. cupping the world
his white plains to make them fill. in summer with the fat green of love's pull-ed up &
pulling up wheat
______________ now where does it go O Canadian in your canoe and the rest of the northern bluff iS IT the ___ job to think ? finding the large spaces of the word and the beauty that's pitted men against nature? these are huge questions 'huge' questions questions huge to brille burn in the lunar landscape. | is it lunar then? Mister D __ After Paris where did you land say 1978 ?
CD_ it was a transitional period I was on me own again. I headed to Ireland ona delusional of escape thinking I'd be finding meself around the fen and bog militating on the nature's behalf half trusting a Wordsworthian recollection of the moment. What I found was a tinker's arse, and a nation, at war. Each spying and hating on each other. The richdoing what they do everywhere getting more and the rest doing as we do. its perhaps the jo b
Cp there are no transitional periods Mister Duffy _ it's a one disrupted phase. On the plane of consistency, if you don't mind me saying so, -- periods are merely spots . If not in time, then markers on the field.
CD that's the sort of thing Mona or Franny Fanny and Jill roust about by the lord living jaysus christ you're mooning the full hawk of dawn's cock and its minnymoo moo!
Cp _ and you think these fictions are 'the answer?'
Cd well they are on a given day or they are not. And if not then I do other things, then right? it's a question of what works for you at a time of day or year, or a part of your life.
