Soon, Nostalgia Will Be Another

Spindly Branches Of Buttercups Were Secreted Among Gleaming Stems Still Moist At The Roots From Last Night's Rain That Had Washedand Refreshed The Entire Wood, Had Dowered It In Poignant Transparency, The Unique, Inconsolable Quality Of Rainy Countries, As If All Was Glimpsed Through Tears.

His Main Principles Were Indeed As Follows: Everything It Is Possible To Imagine Can Also Exist.

He Is, I Think, Already Pondering A Magisterial Project: That Of Buggering The English Language, The Ultimate Revenge Of The Colonialised.

What Do You See When You See Me?' She Asked Him, Burying Her Own Face In His Bosom. 'do You Want The Truth?' She Nodded. 'the Firing Squad.' 'that's Not The Whole Truth. Try Again.' 'insatiability,' He Said With Some Bitterness. 'that's Oblique But Altogether Too Simple. Once More,' She Insisted. 'one More Time.' He Was Silent For Several Minutes. 'the Map Of A Country In Which I Only Exist By Virtue Of The Extravagance Of My Metaphors.' 'now You're Being Too Sophisticated. And, Besides, What Metaphors Do We Have In Common?

Pornography Is A Satire On Human Pretensions.