excerpts from the trilogy Warren Ivory

phantasmagoric transience, in the euphorically hysterical antebellum ambience, crowning blueberries in the raspberry fields, small models trip over the toggles the lipstick toggles, the sound of sheet-metal shit, a trail of which Joe walking third street amongst the faces and laughter of yesterday’s dead, only the memories of the living, the old oak trees, now cut down old churches and singing choirs filled with black Jacksons, Mavis Staples was leading the singers; the sway in her back amplified sound and sense of presence her ass made; another wandering soul, where turtles were still moving showing signs of life while simmering in the sesame Tahini sauce,

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