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       Since then - during the ceremonial handing over of the new atmosphere to use - we blow ritually
on the white ripe heads of the plant:  Taraxacum officinale:      thrushes are thrown into the new air
elsewhere. It is the equivalent of a bottle of champagne:  what it is usually broken over the hip of a
ship: the proof: that: the steps: by which human history stumbles:        are often directed somewhere
anywhere: and only - as if by a uncouth coincidence - Thousand years
is only a little.
       An unknown provincial poet once wrote: People will blow into dandelions:  and:  into open hand:
where they laid their lips before. I'll throw a trush skywards: