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Replying from within the frying of the mind, the intemperate flag waving, the inconstant vision of popular effect, the irradiated sinews which weaken over time, I have just moments to inform you that your hat, und which you are hiding, your hat under which eye am hiding, your hat, und which she is hiding, your hat, the band of which is static-y, is an attempt to smother unshadowness--the almost sacred space of mass influence and subway exiters' dancing.

And thus we find more than a normal number of actions* are begun during the trip home after work, when the encapsules are at their strongest and the rage to differentiate while declaring visibly invisible is at her highest, like letting the make-up which was not applied fall away in wind buffeting.

There will always be a need to correct the length of the leg.

I have personally seen the graffito: Cantsin is a Montybank written in illuminated sprayscript on the 7th avenue line, right at eyelevel to detraining executives. And to what effect. Stringing out the line, I should imagine.

The Neoist Finger having written moves on into the compound with an ever-deepening sense of après-vous le deluge et le smash et le toute nue. Complex matters await conversation in anecho chamber of immediate sky blue.


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