my sweet old etcetera aunt lucy during the recent
war could and what is more did tell you just what everybody was fighting
for, my sister
isabel created hundreds (and hundreds) of socks not to mention shirts fleaproof earwarmers
etcetera wristers etcetera, my
mother hoped that
i would die etcetera bravely of course my father used to become hoarse talking about how it was a privilege and if only he could meanwhile my
self etcetera lay quietly in the deep mud et
cetera (dreaming, et cetera, of Your smile eyes knees and of your Etcetera) | |