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The Trial of A Trader Who Never Went Beyond The Basic Algebra of Nine Times Nine














And books try. And money try
To save tables and money carries in it
The ornament of transition, the disqualified feel of math
and diction, the lunar call of test

There I see the lint afloat the warmer breath.
Flay the arrows because no disturbance is allowed in this watch.
I can feel odor of look, bend of down. Behind me an epiphany of monitors
Unused screens, still plastic. The plasma are not awake, they recreate their
Still show like birth. Some sitting is required, your waiting should never deter me my walk,
my racqueerering of files, my embace of bees, my detected sorrow.

All luminous the screena form
Falsetto to my assiduous input
There is no output
Enought to unporn

There is no porn
To stop me to input

There is no output in ins.

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