[syndicate] N: GRANDUNCLES OF THE CATTLETRADE

[jeff harrison]

clinquant He remembered to have read, as a boy, a wonderful tale by Allan Poe, his prospective wife's countryman - which was a thing to show, by the way, what imagination Americans could have: the story of the shipwrecked Gordon Pym, who, drifting in a small boat further toward the North Pole - or was it the South? - than anyone had ever done, found at a given moment before him a thickness of white air that was like a dazzling curtain of light, concealing as darkness conceals, yet of the colour of milk or of snow revolver He remembered to have read, as a boy, a wonderful tale by Allan Poe, his prospective wife's countryman - which was a thing to show, by the way, what imagination Americans could have: the story of the shipwrecked Gordon Pym, who, drifting in a small boat further toward the North Pole - or was it the South? - than anyone had ever done, found at a given moment before him a thickness of white air that was like a dazzling curtain of light, concealing as
 darkness conceals, yet of the colour of milk or of snow massed He remembered to have read, as a boy, a wonderful tale by Allan Poe, his prospective wife's countryman - which was a thing to show, by the way, what imagination Americans could have: the story of the shipwrecked Gordon Pym, who, drifting in a small boat further toward the North Pole - or was it the South? - than anyone had ever done, found at a given moment before him a thickness of white air that was like a dazzling curtain of light, concealing as darkness conceals, yet of the colour of milk or of snow murmur 
revolver He remembered to have read, as a boy, a wonderful tale by Allan Poe, his prospective wife's countryman - which was a thing to show, by the way, what imagination Americans could have: the story of the shipwrecked Gordon Pym, who, drifting in a small boat further toward the North Pole - or was it the South? - than anyone had ever done, found at a given moment before him a thickness of white air that was like a dazzling curtain of light, concealing as darkness conceals, yet of the colour of milk or of snow massed He remembered to have read, as a boy, a wonderful tale by Allan Poe, his prospective wife's countryman - which was a thing to show, by the way, what imagination Americans could have: the story of the shipwrecked Gordon Pym, who, drifting in a small boat further toward the North Pole - or was it the South? - than anyone had ever done, found at a given moment before him a thickness of white air that was like a dazzling curtain of light, concealing as darkness
 conceals, yet of the colour of milk or of snow murmur He remembered to have read, as a boy, a wonderful tale by Allan Poe, his prospective wife's countryman - which was a thing to show, by the way, what imagination Americans could have: the story of the shipwrecked Gordon Pym, who, drifting in a small boat further toward the North Pole - or was it the South? - than anyone had ever done, found at a given moment before him a thickness of white air that was like a dazzling curtain of light, concealing as darkness conceals, yet of the colour of milk or of snow vast 
massed He remembered to have read, as a boy, a wonderful tale by Allan Poe, his prospective wife's countryman - which was a thing to show, by the way, what imagination Americans could have: the story of the shipwrecked Gordon Pym, who, drifting in a small boat further toward the North Pole - or was it the South? - than anyone had ever done, found at a given moment before him a thickness of white air that was like a dazzling curtain of light, concealing as darkness conceals, yet of the colour of milk or of snow murmur He remembered to have read, as a boy, a wonderful tale by Allan Poe, his prospective wife's countryman - which was a thing to show, by the way, what imagination Americans could have: the story of the shipwrecked Gordon Pym, who, drifting in a small boat further toward the North Pole - or was it the South? - than anyone had ever done, found at a given moment before him a thickness of white air that was like a dazzling curtain of light, concealing as darkness
 conceals, yet of the colour of milk or of snow vast He remembered to have read, as a boy, a wonderful tale by Allan Poe, his prospective wife's countryman - which was a thing to show, by the way, what imagination Americans could have: the story of the shipwrecked Gordon Pym, who, drifting in a small boat further toward the North Pole - or was it the South? - than anyone had ever done, found at a given moment before him a thickness of white air that was like a dazzling curtain of light, concealing as darkness conceals, yet of the colour of milk or of snow verve murmur... 

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