the world became a question of rivers, houses, 

worships of princes carrying eachother like scepters. 

will this allow the sky survive to the end?

what about the waters?

when i was happy lambs were born

dances held the perfect centre of things and

no I’s were too jealous. when i was less divine

the moon held up a fake gray plate and was

sorry for the darkness.

generally? generally? how can i make pictures

when i couldnt dry those old books?

how did the others do it?