REGION OF MEMORY  

By David Eide  

A darting river drives to the center of terrible truth. An obstruction runs all around me, it flows lastly when the great rock is removed. Solid and horrible is that telluric form. It faces have preceded me and watch me, a simple boy in a river started by an ancient, ironic man. "Oh boy, the rock will crush you too." "Ha! He has the look of a winner!"



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