water. Paper-like dust we made it. Empty
walls. Look anywhere. No good.No bueno.
yesterday.. ..“Nome hagas caso.” Dead on
.. bloodspilledoverthe American . . .trail-
inglights andwater. . . . The Sailor went so
wrong somewhere in that grey flesh.. . . He
just sit down onzero. . .. I noddedon Niño
Perdido his coffee over three hours late. . ..
They allwent awayandsentpapers... .The
Dead Man write for you like a major. . . .
went to your Consul. He gave me a Mexican
after his death. . . . Five times of dust we
made it. . . with soap bubbles of withdrawal
afterthehalfmaps cameinby candlelight...
.... Junklines falling. ..Stay off...