Biography of Robert Brown
I was born and living still. Everything else seems to have been written before.
And What of the Rivers
And what of the rivers, where one used to drink, cup handed and smiling? It happened in secret, behind the clown nose and jive shows, and they only charged a buck-what a deal. Cutting fish heads they count the dead, laying them back where their found. They don't loose count for it takes only a lunch break, paddling through plastic waters that smell