Then she appeared—the woman of one hundred arms. First as still as tree branches, then windmilling, but that is a word from the land next door. Then the tale of the man who switched clothes with a berber woman and went looking for the lost city in the sand. The desire to paint without making a picture. This was the first story for the first day and one was aware of that. "Sux - intravoxa," they muttered attempting to get on with things. But all that was construed as thing had reverted to sky at the slightest glance, embarrassed sky.





In this place which Legend Posits

A silence fell upon the land. More quiet than a map. The sounds of place having to do with the irreducibility and seamlessness of story. Airlines want us to forget this. One body feeds sleep to the one next to it. And the next imagines it as her own. For example.



Issue Two
Table of Contents