page seventeen
Do you use that thing a whole lot then? He asked in a
wary way, but plunged on For his desperate end, without pause;
Fact is, um Stumpy I really need to know a bit of guff
'Cause the sharks are biting at my bum And those wheels out
there will never beat them to the gun.
Be my guest, came the quick reply, I know that feeling well; This
business hangs by fish hooks in the clouds … The stranger slipped
without a word upon his task, His fingers flew, and numbers danced
like dervishes About a witch's brew, while Stumpy watched And
marvelled, and envied such control Of empires built and banished
with the speed of thought.
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