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Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.
More in Poetry I was warnedI was warned I was warned of the dangers of driving an open car, the top down, one hand off the wheel, reaching for something to drink in the late afternoon-soon-to-be-evening, while around me America rolled along. and I was warned of the absolute peril come to visit when hands fell idle, works that only seemed blessed. I had every caution I had ever heard, poured out and served each time I stopped without thinking. I was such a careless boy.
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