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



And they don’t give the answers
At the end of the test
So you can’t simply stand there and hope for the best
So wake me up at the border
When we reach Mexico
I’ll tell you a secret I don’t even know
— Aimee Mann, King of The Jailhouse

The laptop as serving tray

Here’s to Cisco an’ Sonny an’ Leadbelly too,
An’ to all the good people that traveled with you.
Here’s to the hearts and the hands of the men
That come with the dust and are gone with the wind.
— Bob Dylan, Song To Woody