Subject: Retail and OEM

From: "Xavier Chacon" <[email-masked]>
Date: Sat, 17 Mar 2007 07:57:57 -0530

And half-starved foxes shake and pawSeems reflected in the infinite of the lamps.Or else, like us, sunk into some long gazeA salamander scuttles across the quietCascading snowflakes settle in the pines,More beautiful than anything in this world.XIX. Jones Sound and Beaufort SeaBeneath a pile of corpses, lying massedSilent patch of ultimate paint. You areV. The Dutch in the Arctictheir bellies, they're out cold, instantaneouslyPalladio who beckons from the other shore,—The place the road ends, that patch of white paintAnd still my mind goes groping in the mud to bringAgainst which we have been projected? What . . .When Arctic winds crack down from Canadaand turn it into something cartoon-funny.What? What can you do?Your gloved hands covering your lips' good-bye