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the loosed hounds coursed inward to the zero forest, zero portrait, sun-hot zephyr, and were gone. The smell was gone, the format. The neatly woven strands, the imagined half-living quantum cat, had lost their pulse. Now what bread can be brought to the table? Out of the gross data, what fandango will thirst irritate to consciousness of light? There is no void less ravening than the sea. Who sits there? What taste in the mouth of the god? | |
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"not one can resist her impulse to drown" Copyright © 1996 Forward to Of Madness and Moby Grape Back to Maybe Reality Bites, But I'll Take It Path of Least Resistance Cover of Episode 8 Enterzone |
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