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I'm packing no suitcase, going on vacation, hiatus, perhaps a spiritual retreat. Going to a place where things are wordless.

" There is always plenty to say about the other fellow, but in nine cases out of ten it is best left unsaid. Forbearance is as much the keynote of good-fellowship on a dream ship as elsewhere-- perhaps more--..."

To some I may send thoughts, wrapped in wire and sea-rusted pieces of shipwrecks. My hope is your kindness finds them, deciphering the simple fragments of best wishes and gratitude. Going to a place where things are wordless but there will be dancing and singing. And the deconstruction of machines.


Sane, sane they're all insane
The fireman's blind, the conductors lame
A Cincinnati jacket and a sad luck dame
Hanging out the window with a bottle full of rain

Clap hands, clap hands
Clap hands, clap hands

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