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Poetry

pockets full of stones

I am going to read. I am going to read Woolf. I am going to read Virginia Woolf. I am going to sit down cross my legs and read Virginia Woolf. There is only one Virginia Woolf. Virginia Woolf was born into an affluent household in South Kensington, London, England, the seventh child. Virginia Woolf’s father was a Sir. Virginia Woolf’s mother was photographed by Julia Margaret Cameron. Virginia Woolf had a Victorian Childhood. Virginia Woolf once dressed like a man. Jinny was a member of the Bloomsbury Set. The Bloomsbury Set were all upper middle class. Virginia Woolf wrote many difficult books. The book in my hand is To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. It is a difficult book to read. When I read Virginia Woolf I like to have a cup of tea close by and toasted bread with lashings of butter. Last night I read To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Last night I read a hundred pages of To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Last night while reading To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf it rained and the wind ululated but I was warm and secure and had a cup of tea and three slices of toast with lashing of butter while I read To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Over my head was an electric light and it illuminated the pages of To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Unfolding and folding thoughts dreamily wafting an opium dream of Augustus Carmichael melancholy thoughts permeate We All Die Alone such a sad thought my thoughts are now swayed by To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Virginia Woolf drowned with her pockets full of stones in the River Ouse, Sussex.

T. R. Rayland

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