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postmodern putin
is on page 77 of 478
Of the turbid pool that lies in the autumn forest,
Of the moon that descends the steeps of the soughing twilight,
Toss, sparkles of day and dusk -- toss on the black stems that decay in the muck,
Toss to the moaning gibberish of the dry limbs.
— Jun 10, 2026 08:47AM
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Of the moon that descends the steeps of the soughing twilight,
Toss, sparkles of day and dusk -- toss on the black stems that decay in the muck,
Toss to the moaning gibberish of the dry limbs.
Eric
is on page 3 of 530
p.3/530 (repaginated). Book 1. Inscriptions. One’s-Self I Sing.
— Jun 10, 2026 02:41AM
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