For Every Tib and Tom Cat


Cat Alone - 6 -

April 28

I could taste her while she approached. The nearer she came the more sour felt my tongue. Was her name Sarah? I understood Sour, though. Sour came so near she touched me. My heart flew. Then I turned my head toward strength that did not want me. Ah the upheaval.

The monotone of the wind, the vertigo of the triggered objects, soaring until their legs were weak.

And now the slump. After falling, we all slept.

Never so well

Never so well


anyocs de nyacs!

who the 'ell?

La meva foto
C.R. Morell his paltry efforts,