VI A Buried Plane
es, as if test betrayal of yourself o reveal one more incer. In talked. e itudes ay of Kufra.
ablet into t disappears into th.
I crossed to robes against t and nigus left beer, in , I o .
In t tools of survival are underground—troglodyte caves, er sleeping , weapons, a plane.
At longitude , latitude , I dug dooarpaulin, and Madox’s old plane gradually emerged. It ern over to for a —starlig, I don’t remember. Everyhere was a war.
t of tarp so dig it out but o cut it away.
In ter t. I started tor and it rolled into life. e moved and too late, into the sky.
tops. traight ahead in his morphine focus.
t above turns as if losing a stitc, noise terrible after o . Acacia and bone. he sky?
top of a palm and s up, and t, o it.
t, and t co t beside s t glass and it s. Begins punc, finally breaking it, and t were so arms uncoiling around ongue.
Caravaggio reflected in t. tted plane, tings on tree been? s of t t tired of living lie back in rust o stand guard all day all niged not from t but from solitude. Madox gone. translated into leaves and to the sky like a jaw above him.
o t parace and pivots upside do knoil he realizes he is on fire.
ient’s room and stands in trying to catc they are saying.
?
onderful! No’s my turn.
Ahh! Splendid, splendid.
test of inventions.
A remarkable find, young man.
ers sient passing a can of condensed milk back and fort