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Artaud on the edge of the bed

sound days if ever nick close enough to be measured lean say turbulent boy harvesting stubble at winter one hour for the year to leave push that window out further fast for three hours let my catapult free a kidney or two same as the billboard driving down side streets to the sea argue under the tide with streamed gesture no one returns except those who hire a page turner tie the beast up in the yard to rattle windows outdoor animals allow us to live longer lives if read at night to rest writing is not for holidays