Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Through Your Unspeaking Roof Comments

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In your days of making friends I don’t suppose you counted
On how many hands you’d have to hold,
Your eyes as brown as a politician’s sun, until the night slipping
Over the gold-dog world and taking away all of
...
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Robert Rorabeck
butterfly television
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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
Robert Rorabeck
Robert Rorabeck
Berrien Springs
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