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Title: A waste of EVERYONE'S energies.
Review: Slipping and sliding. Stuck in the same place, High and Mighty, lower, flaccid. I remember reading this. But what is memory? I think of it as the water washing against the reeds over and over. What are these reeds I speak of? Collective unconcious, and shared experience. It is One long floaty, weighty story. It is loose and fragile. Savannah, will you speak to me?! Can't Mother be nicer? I remember being hurt and it hurts; the pain slick as a porpoise's tail. A better 600 plus pages Finnegans Wake is. The excitement of not knowing, knowing brings more pain, like being born. Air, sun and water into dead tree pulp (mea MAXIMA culpa), essential inks. They're still dead and I am Dying. My arms ironed, lifting a book of mud in vain. Lizst. Schlitz. Leibestraum: A body dream. Blah blah-blah blah blah blah....
