Don't try to escape allegory or over-read the vending machines. The waterfall attracts its share of losers. Nearby flowers recite past favourites unselfconsciously, bowing their heads to the grass as the mercury falls. Jocund and lowing abreact, whistling charms the furrows. The aesthetics of picnics gather parks and trays embossed with birds and branches.
Lunch is served in the royal enclosure by costumed swains and youths glad of the work.
Dishevelled planets grow up in arrears and shed their light like imported brocade used in the manufacture of evening bags. Starry Messenger Mouthfuls of shame like an understudy subigatrix voyage my melody my novelette my secret solar system courier of lightning's borrowed oeuvre strolling fricatrice Copyright Boston Review , 1993-2000. All rights reserved. Please do not reproduce without permission.