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By gillfinn - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Kings of Toots We sat next to one another unsecretive, even loud in the dark of a bar called Toots. Sipping voraciously, and gesturing like Italians. We competed in consumption not on purpose but of need we trampled habit, daily, any hour celebration every hour, whiskey spirited away with promises... Sign in to see full entry.

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