Young men kneeling (pinched from Thomas Mann)

the public, the people watery eyes nothing was wanting over the trees stood forgotten the spherical jar of chloroform young men kneeling his blanched nose visibly constricted neither a miser nor a hypochondriac less ideologically hampered in half-profile the lonely and domineering man no blame attaches   stunted, useless behind a cordon salt and silver(…)


Tea (furrows from Orhan Pamuk)

a promise, a sign for poetry tall for a Turk later on   plexiglass panels thought he saw intense, almost instinctive dread   the empty windows everything there was to know baring tins of sunflower oil tea and medicine the high price of a glass of tea   as if two hard whacks no one(…)


Sorrow to come (pinches of E.M.Forster)

tucking up their sleeves for hours twenty miles of view cheerful trim among the trees   that and nothing else ‘in a gush’ suggestion of rain scarlet calico where no one loves him ‘I don’t die, I don’t fall in love’ roared like a millionaire one more wench new clean words   bridle Harriet’s tongue(…)