The Hurricane
The tree lay down on the garage roof and stretched, You have your heaven, it said, go to it.
William Carlos Williams
I must lie down where all the ladders start
In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart
Young but old-feeling, novel-writing nobody; a sucker for cityscapes.
In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart
Young but old-feeling, novel-writing nobody; a sucker for cityscapes.
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