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When walking hope is a swagger
When sleeping hope is a lullaby
When breathing hope is oxygen
When drunk hope. . .
Without the noise of home I learn
to hear my body’s own sound.
It is like sleeping in a narrow boat,
waters slapping. . .
Somewhere in Maine a boy waits for my phone call. I can’t call because I can’t move.
Part of a larger assault on mass media, Abdel Fattah el-Sisi takes on Egypt’s beloved Ramadan dramas.
Default Filename TV wants to make YouTube weird again.
It's time for the left to start thinking in the future tense. But is Fully Automated Luxury Communism the answer?