he was seeing it all, the sweet and wild tonic of words, in ways that I've forgotten, no longer so young, so open, so rapid, so endless, a basin of sounds and swirling images, a white page.
he was seeing it all, the sweet and wild tonic of words, in ways that I've forgotten, no longer so young, so open, so rapid, so endless, a basin of sounds and swirling images, a white page.