The Things; they are indeed so different from this point of view;
They change their forms, their aspect and the hue;
The things are upside-downed with their Intestines strewn and smashed and reek of newly written picture to the sky does up
And up; it soars above distinctly as the morning sky in mourning of the scythéd rye; the swathéd rye; ye fellow rise and cry
Emit and fly and die and rise from maggots to the damnéd earth condemned to fly in space with the eternal dearth
This being that to bear;
So how you think
Shall I as
well
a toast
Apply to a sheet some ink?