Route 128

Dear Old Friend,

We've both become a bit famous, I fear. I've lost the centripetal orientation of your variation, but am glad to have your search strings back. Someone's finally put a down payment on the castle in Denmark. Sister is working meshwork, translating this and that from the vulgate with a band of leather between her teeth - not to prevent her from biting her tongue, she's long since swallowed that. To prevent her upper jaw from crushing her lower, as one set seeks heaven and the other seeks hell.

Which is why it's good to hear about your man in the kitchen. You've always enjoyed symbolic gestures and loved your guardians. I myself function less with fewer controls. A single dynamic sword carries the mixture of my thigh and hip across many markets. I raze and rape all that I can. My long period of predominance as a major figure of international culture has finally begun to wane, and I am that ghost counted in raw numbers between the father and the son.

Should these collocations reach you in the weeks, months, years ahead, I shall look for your letters a thousand miles from here.

H.