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o beloved internet, o pencil, o orange juice I think of you as I ride the bus. Even at my gray cubicle I have the mint tea, from Morroco, from Africa. I may have no original thoughts, I may have my monitor raised on three reams of white paper starting to yellow, but the world is with me, beloved world. Today I have a newborn.
By grrlpup on 03.30.2009
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.