Along the highway: from sleep still callous fish with glued eyes limps: and devil males waits at the request stops for the wedding night connections forever The work is being done everywhere around - while some sort of toothless rogues tears off the reflectors from scattered mileposts - at scaffolding - the slimy tilers are chasing the painters: who came here to bleach everything - of course: they're lighting the one stub from another: and behind their backs: they're pouring themself with a dim black beer without foam
