of course hes no t nice gendering his shenouns around enouns. e\bookS! quellelaughter! I came to his stonE as a turned son of dada from Moinesti to Bucharest Paris ofthe East finding him in the place of multiformed dead alive as the rainbow outside of
my room in the quarter I bunked
my room in the quarter I bunked
with Genet, my uncle , we took a taxi to his funeral. Isidore Isou and Maurice Lemaitre the lettrists, who had declared themeselves Emperor and Prince of poetry, got into a fist fight with some of the Stalinist in attendance. Now that is action.Uncle Jean and I, stood back and watched. I was a mere wee thing then, about say, 11 yrs .
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