All our vehicles are armor, armor against our travelling’s attempts to change us.
Le mystère de la tour Eiffel.
"widdershizzle"
the glum glamour
of gluey brew
polaroid pill
pulls us drooling
rancid to rinse
or roam chromeplate
typewriter tarp
towed to yodel
let darg's digging
double our flub,
nothing known there—
benighted plight
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