Forgive Me If I Sleep Until I

And All Now Is War Where So Lately There Was Peace, And The Sweet Brotherhood, The Use Of Tilled Fields.

Dead, Hung Up Indoors, The Kingfisher Will Not Indicate A Favoring Wind, Or Avert The Thunderbolt.

Were All Moving, Moving, Moving. Isnt It Nice?

There Are No Hierarchies, No Infinite, No Such Many As Mass, There Are Only/ Eyes In All Heads,/ To Be Looked Out Of.

I Have Had To Learn The Simplest Things Last. Which Made For Difficulties.