For Every Tib and Tom Cat


diumenge

flocks of geese, flocks of stars








How well do they mix, the flocks. Of geese amongst stars. All together they seem, don't they, they seem to be writing purposeful letters ... T ... V ... X ...









Am I reading things? Am I reading PYX ... VEX ... STYX ... ?





Who am I vexing by DIPPING my pyx into the styx of the sky?




An adverse wind blurs my eyes.





divendres

exhibit









I saw that sky on the sky only the other evening – light’s obscene exposure...



for our astounded grateful eyes to feast on.






dilluns

Serving







Serving now...





a platterful of stars.






Never so well

Never so well
nyac!

Inosculated

Inosculated
anyocs de nyacs!

who the 'ell?

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

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