105

Provoking Exposure 2.0

In the absence of grounding talk, the one of Saturday nights of old and beer, the key is shared and thus immediately taken out of public circulation. To attempt to decipher the following equals the strive for an answer to the validity of male monks in cities. An amasser of continuations and a gathering of diversities; one's past, namely mine, appears to none other than me, at least, the other's present. The railway of a larynx and the sterile generalisation of hares too. Hat's off to that stamina is due. The wine steadily on the white side to defy the mustard and hinder the provoked by ignorance mutilation. A custarded whisk. Even though I had finally become nothing but a mildly furred paternality, in between two hands, some butternut and jutted shelves, we had a dear good time, without song or dance, even.