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Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.
More in Dregs & Other Unreadables North of San Francisco on blood stained groundthe little raven cawed east of last rays of sunlight
through the redwood, celebrating the Sonoma chipmunk dinner a blacktailed deer, bound from his raucous voice over the garter snakes, salamanders, newts and the pleasant smell of rot she whispered in my ear, "Here in Muir, I knew we'd find peace." |
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