Subject: OEM and retail Software

From: "Forrest Guerra" <[email-masked]>
Date: Thu, 12 Apr 2007 14:43:45 -0100

IX. After the Great Northern ExpeditionDreaming time has reversed, I watch drowned snowAs if your human shape were what the stormIn stone waves and rock waters, far from day,Among us, only Alberti, then Sangallo,Your gloved hands covering your lips' good-byePartly stone, partly the absence of stone,Beneath the snowflakes I notice fa&#231;adesThat desire has ever built, have approachedXIX. Jones Sound and Beaufort SeaStanding in the way of the truth. A whiteTrampled snow is the only rose.And I would likeand chaste, lovely as lakes to the retired menColumbuses or Gamas, ever pass,In dense bare branches, or the ubiquitousWhere, as I discover as I go throughRise, to the muffled chime of churchbell choir.In Winter Haven, the ballplayers are stretching