Re: res, in reference to–there’s a man here in your old neighborhood who is giving me the stink-eye; the resemblance of the landscape is no accident, the theory of course being that Wordsworth made London gray, before that it was a city like any other city; in Chicago we have ourselves to blame.
Of course I am asking questions, (here: what kind of wind?) and attempting answers; otherwise, the resemblance of the landscape (here-to-there, &c.) poses questions; further thoughts are questionable.
shuddering or otherwise, you said something about an island, you said something about the only wind here, you said question but it wasn’t, write soon.
The only wind here is the gust of the underground and the sighs of an island surrounded by shuddering waves.
Dear London, the wind outside is strong enough to blow birds off powerlines, write soon, Chicago.
