This winter is a snare. This winter is a farcical knot. This winter sees a threat in a wise guy. The next one will be Galician. The bugs of next winter are already staring, and if the curls get spoiled, then Ropret will be out of his meals. It’s a danger. Honey is a joint over Jacob. He limps...
Everyone is in the clearing. Godfather crouches, he’s tender, he tortures. The roost is mute. Iron shod I come. In the conical hayracks, in the intelligent bull. Rustling massages the sky. The cellar squats beneath itself. Seed undulates from the sphere. Lamb’s lightning utters the thought. S...