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



Doctor, do you have a remedy?
This is not alright by me
Do you think that you have the trick?
For a city that’s so spent and sick?
— Pretty Girls Make Graves, All Medicated Geniuses

Erlangen: Botanischer Garten

Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls
it tolls for thee.
— John Donne, Meditation XVII