i am for the arabic, for the transcription of the arabic, zato dates over fire-baked bread. the twin rivers have already called for us a history. our poets have already explained to us the desert. by what right have you come? who have you have seen the rustic crane in the tree, no chimes but for its delicate wide beak, ushers an intemperate reprieve? 33 beads on a string, why pretend to know beyond the presence of click. thank you. please welcome gale sher >> the first one is why did she care? why did she care, she wondered, laying aside the book. a dim light could be seen possibly from a cabin reaching in not for the word, but for the space which a time. fat drops driven violently side ways. the man's mind into which she tossed herself becomes a bird. fly away, bird. fly south where you are needed. letters moved, she could barely make them out. the sky moved, hanging bluntly. a circle swayed toppled to the sea. to you, sea, i chant and to the one with ears, hearing you into me. this one is called, having eaten fish. having eaten fish, i open myself to make them more comfort

i am for the arabic, for the transcription of the arabic, zato dates over fire-baked bread. the twin rivers have already called for us a history. our poets have already explained to us the desert. by what right have you come? who have you have seen the rustic crane in the tree, no chimes but for its delicate wide beak, ushers an intemperate reprieve? 33 beads on a string, why pretend to know beyond the presence of click. thank you. please welcome gale sher >> the first one is why did she care? why did she care, she wondered, laying aside the book. a dim light could be