Conflicker or fucker or something...London Calling The Clash...exuent the Queen....
we can find comfort in though immortal lines from T.S. Eliot that I hopefully can set down from memory-
April is the cruel month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
memory and desire stirring, dull roots with spring rain
Winter kept us warm, covering.
Oh what's this? a note in the margin from Ezra Pound, Eliot's editor on The Waste Land.
"Eliot, are you trying to drive us crazy? Get out in the fresh air."
4.01.2009
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