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Monday September 24th 2012    Tim Candler

     Scattered frost this morning might not augur a winter so cold it lasts until June of next year.  That clear night and dry air, with Orion and The Plough just south of the Milky Way.  The Sky Blue like an Orange, or was it the Earth is Blue like an Orange.  He was a Frenchman, and I say this because he was born in one of the nearly thirty seven thousand  communes, or villages or parishes, of Metropolitan France, which includes Corsica.  "The Wasps are flowering green."  "The dawn is worn around the neck."  His first wife ran off with Salvador Dali.

    "The fish of anguish."  "She is standing on my eyelids." "They make fire from coals, they make men from kisses."  "The light is always close to dying."  His given name was Eugene Emile Paul Grindel.  His other name was Paul  Eluard.   "On the white bread of days, I write your name."  It was during the second world war he  found his nuts and bolts.  He died in 1952.  He has a very nice grave in a large Paris cemetery, his funeral paid for by the Communist Party. 

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