THEN one time MORE ALONG THE LOW BU...

THEN one time MORE ALONG THE LOW BULGING

translated by dint of Andrew Duncan


facades, from which the overripe facing is crumbling, the plaster
humming
lime fall to pieces cake warm from the oven between the macerate aslant
edges of the channel Fresh sweat

glazes the thin iron sheeting in the yard, which a trade subject to a spell
pushs
comfortably out of the lay open windows, egg froth and cinnamon upon
blonde crusted rubbish bin tops. What do you call

that. Real homesickness? The all-round increase of shortage pastry?
[It doesn't
matter.