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From the kitchens where the gas is kept / beloved are the blues shining my shoulder / old potholes . . .
when wildness & brown was hit by the car it hollered & spun
the wild brown dog looked like a dust devil gathering wind. . .
There is no word in English for the circle
left on a table from a cold glass,
or for the difference in flavor
between fresh. . .
How universities get rich by stiffing their neighbors
Music and fascism fifty years after Adorno
Reject the focus-grouped inanity of corporate Democrats