GLANCING THE MALDIVES
Nothing but the hat brings this fine
boat home : a regatta, and cheerless
howls. The fashion of worms, now
a dictate of fashion. Liz is off to
Spoken burdens are the things of
bad speeches : enunciate all your
superlatives, please. Edgar Alan
Poe was here, just drinking. Now
he's left again. He likes to walk
these treeless streets.
Burnt-candle offerings at either end;
but I cannot send a pledge to your
Mesopotamian efforts. All things
are my dirge these days, and
people are walking off.