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The birth of images will solve the future problems & make it easier for friends, or for the plastic
bags of lavender flowers, filled yet clear. Drag plastic bags of white rice through the metal fields,
drag plastic bags of lavender, of water & drop them at the ground-in grass.

Between the sulfur smell of roses with the stars & the innocent, we imagine the birth of images
to be a problem. Wheel with a father, green & brown eyes & glory, our stars of rolling stones &
transfer. Our stars of chemicals & agitation.

O you canals & cobblestones, this stream is not the same thing today, was not related to recall.
Days without sleep? Lotus flowers? The fields of metal stretch across the canal. The bulls only
founder in mercy & compassion, & the rain & drowned.



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