Saturday, February 04, 2006


The words do not orderly and willingly queue up to walk single-file across a page, like some elder, hopeless, labor camp inmates, going to their rest; but are, instead, third graders at recess, pushing and shoving to get God knows where, in their primary colors and Oh! They haven't buttoned their jackets! and Oh! Come back here you wild, untamed phrases!

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