Intro.. Draw... Poems.. Grannie's Sunday thoughts are stroking flourishing cakes: her ladle contributes to creams solidification: gilded with ducat dumplings. Biscuits gets drunk with liqueurs: and: collapsed puff roofs rises in spirals in poppy strudels: where history is unwinding. In the morning: only the immediate crust: only slick flattery of the butter: deals with lentils: on cymbals from porridge - before pumpkin flowers planetized: she must sift: by another spring sieved: a really burdensome aroundcherrying. A white rhombus came out on the sidewalk and: compatible with nursery sunshine: the redeemer crucified in hopscotch - for us own: the good will go to the reformatory. Ghosts breathe on the attic: traps are seductive on the shelves and under the cupboards - irises from peacock tails are squinting into the duvets: where peacock's gaze pro forma: in the morning: will shake pillows and ventilate shit: this fly's idol. Spider on hair: mulberry for bows: stone pexeso: and: balloon heaven - leather radio in trance: wild hops: old bricks: and: brand black currants - there are two castles and a cake in the boxing bag. Dry trees are rustling with empty candies: when I let go kites: wrapped with heavy barking: through unavoidable rails: and tunnel in the fire box with sand: I leave somewhere at the back - this my mammonism.Back... Along.. More...