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the stoney creek is shallow, the way

that the quarterback is

waiting to eat.  He is famished and the

river is dry, they haven’t

stopped to try, to quarrel for

the rights of the sane, to rumble

for the statutes of the

past.  There is a innocent

actor in the

distance, she is wearing a coat in the

rain.  The droplets are hungrier than her

contracts, there isn’t a future to stretch.

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