I feel much better than that poet in Cologne unfortunate bloke with eyeballs shaped like eggs and I am better since I am the one who...

The right of way is fenced the ground you race across is rough you run too fast two strands of barbed wire on willow poles but she flies...

concipit aethera mente the sky in the heart Ovid, Metamorphoses, I, 777 Oh, morning, the brown brink eastward, springs - Because the Holy...