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… and where the shift is made slash marks the spot … William S. Burroughs / a land where the wind alone is there on ye silent smiling curses, controlling the poisoned seas, that mysterious sea lit not too far from him, & this grey island / mysterious...

… whilst he sits quietly on a park bench in a drab grey suit, grey blue eyes looking blankly around as twilight draws near, parents & children & joggers & loafers & walkers with dogs are not aware of him, as he seems to shift otherwhen through ye rifts...

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