Tricked-out funhouse freak in the crushed velvet sheets of river you fold over me. Whack spazmodic Tao bazooka, flipping the switches of the cutbank like a Cadi on spreewells O…
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It is so easy to decide not to go to the Marquette street garden at 6 am when the alarm sings its hellacious requiem. But I went anyways, today. i…