Worm, (to a rumor of lilies)

Issue #99
Spring 2006
Ach—the gravitas of the hunt. I. Digestive turned blue so the woman said. Said, I write my own islands, and red, red. Was urinary.            Under the astigmatic lens of her naked eye she followed the tracts. Looking at worms for...

Purchase an archive subscription to see the rest of this article.