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Oct 2012
A feather has been placed on the breast of Mother Nature only to be blown away by the winds she created,
crafted out of good intentions and placed onto the wings of irreplaceable mystic holding super powered
beings that claim the ability which mere mortals only dream to obtain.
Spreading for all to see, each climate of generously sparing and over populated monstrosities
unable to be reached by force in calves and thighs,
these which i object to call by given proper letters haunt me in conventional senses.
Ugly, foul, wretched, I personify my adjectives as ammunition for these paper dwelling drawings
that seem so fascinating to common folk. Fly my mother told me, fly.
Kara Goss
Written by
Kara Goss  Chicago
(Chicago)   
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