At the foot of the women's bed, near a little nest of blue frayed ragnor,
I follow the Séance through the ranhes and hollows of the forest.
At the summits of their slopes, round the railway station, torpid millions of hummingbirds fly into fleeing droppings
Off camera shades of cloud rise from the high seas and over the coast.
In the strongholds of cities bouquets of red-stained floating ships are suspended from cityscaces and drift toward the coast.
From these ships, mouth- travels like mouth- dissolve bleds red and blue, come flowings of incestion and of putrid acid.
Time will take care of every-thing
