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Wiggly Jello Recipes.
By a German poet named Rainer Maria Rilke.
His eye has grown so weary with passing by the bars that it holds nothing more. He feels as though there were a thousand bars and behind these thousand bars no world.
The soft walk of lithe strange paces, which turns in the smallest of circles, is like a dance of energy around a center in which a great will stands stupefied.
Only occasionally is the curtain of the pupil pushed open soundlessly-- Then a picture enters, goes through the tensed stillness of his limbs and dies in his heart.
|This Page was Created: 7/24/1998|
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