traces (ca1973)        
         
 
To the left of the sane mountain range, behind houses and tears, behind fences and lies lives a derelict computer disguised as a young romantic couple. In the mornings, when the dust shimmers in the heat and the bushes try to sway, their one delighted fearful thought (Hallelujah the madness is spreading) takes the shape of a prayer, and like an opaque globe al most materializes above the plain: Hallelujah the madness is spreading.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
         
         
         
         
       
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