dead drunk dublin and other imaginal spaces
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Today, I sidled up next to Time, a if it were a friend returning from a long journey, face weathered & wizened, hair long & gray, but with a lot to say about Paris in the late Sixties, Saigon’s early Seventies, Managua, Beirut, etc. Through him, & the wine, the talk of human experience teamed up with the hands of history’s clock in a sign language, exhibiting that vast geography in a single body.



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