Fate Is A Mahout Astride A Large Elephant, Impersonal As Dark Sun With Winds Raging Across A Desert. Fate Is The Old Bones Of Dead Indians Being Resurrected As Ground Mist On The Edge Of A Salt Marsh. And Not Knowing What To Call Personal Destiny We Resort To The Clunker "Fate" - "Beggar And King" Enjoying, Or So It Is Said, The Dust Together. I Prefer Wet Leaves Breaking Canisters Of Restraint And Calling To The Earth As Little Paws Digging Into The Humus Of The Sky.
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