Make Practice
March 14, 2009, by Homme De Sept-Iles
Lighted, glistening white oval arena (say, Copps Coliseum) the pristine surface glitters and smiles white and perfect til looking closer walking to and onto the ice we see the grooves, lines and fissures in the un-engineered surface, the tormented cracks and warps that push the silver lake surface, summons agonized dead teeth gritted eyes open spirits wanna see perfection? Step back or walk toward something new


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