Issue Two: SONG TO THE MUSES

Between pastel foggy dewclouds and limegreen fronds of imagery I seem to remember a second manuscrpit pick-up. I don't recall how it came to be set up, I almost doubted that it happened at all, amongst that patchwork of impressionistic scintillating fragments and slivers of mercury reflections. Somehow the connection was made and the Ancient Muses were called again. The Carapaced One; I only hope he was happy with it, feasting his myriad eyes on glistening hyacinths in his warm Minoan levitation.