long long ago and long before that lady bladder cherry receives in her maildrop a letter from a dream which she interprets as
the dead have roused from their rest to hunt lovers in the garish eve
losing votively themselves in thickets of critical mirage
fragmentation in those of plasma
as solidity avers itself
but the dead dont get lost thinks lady bladder cherry opening times parasol let us flap the flag of our pudenda on the markets parliament let us suicide by not suiciding
the lady that day has been on the dead and while this is no aberration it becomes this day one
go where everything negates you
but that is anywhere
licking my eye like a cytherean dog
you lie depudic by the gonadal gates
cherrys on deaths dais and doesnt know it bladder may have seen this message ladys dreaming of a letter that has the mind of a letter that loses its dreaming in the dead
