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Brain Stains


A predictable fleece, the bandit of Delaware.  Froth crusting in the corners of his mouth, the faint smell of bodily fluids.  Teeth stains, shirt stains.  Brain stains.  A rotting fool.



The world continues to turn, creep.  Earth is fine, moron.  Tomorrow will be incredible, no need to wait for the 4th Of July.  Remember to put me on the Gonzo List, the one in blue neon.  The one that glows.


Pull up your face, a dignified posture.  Look in all directions, deliberately.  Scan the place with your eyes, tune in with your ears, pick up the chatter.  Swig another shot of wine.  Taste the grapes of the Tre Venezie region of Italy.

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