Friday, 20 May 2005

exploding alphabet

About to go and read a hybrid of words first formed here, to real people.

Projection of voice and message.

Meanwhile, crescendo of evening supported by dullard day of bus journeys, fruitless suburb trawls, lack of ink, no food, a string of noughts across the cashpoint screen.

Post has been favourable recently though, after an erstwhile absence.

I talk of the quiet times, because they rarely answer back.

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