Total sweet largishness divides a fence, has ten thousand thickets swarming sweetly in a breeze. Over and over, fields of crows and a telephone wire of plovers lounging and niggling termites from a telephone pole. Halftime heroics, lowlife nogoodniks nuzzle each other as lovers in a laneway curse and give their drugs away. Oh we walk well! Oh just down by the bend, each means something to an end, halftime, Miller time, time for fender bender, horse gallop Grendil, it's a self-looping never-ender.