shepard fairey



ras

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ras

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gustav dore

our boys

death and burial

wm

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Après Vespers


we lounged by the carp pool; reflections of her hair
fell across the surface sweeping darkness
willy-nilly. My main maintainers of mojo
shrieked an eerie chord, my brain screamed alert. At
that very moment a grand piano spectacularly
entered our dream, descending all in a rush.
Julliard took her. Then them.


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