Experimental, impressionistic sub-paragraph tumblin' (think obstsalat)



I stood unwound beneath the skies
And clouds unbound by laws.
The cryin’ rain like a trumpet sang
And asked for no applause.
— Bob Dylan, Lay Down Your Weary Tune

He asks you how it feels
And he says, “Here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan”
— Bob Dylan, Ballad Of A Thin Man

Picture 030
21:44 <chris2> oooooh
21:44 <chris2> did you know samuel beckett solved HashWithIndifferentAccess?
21:44 <chris2> "The novel's final words are 'no symbols where none intended'."