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February 7, 2012
To the edge we go rejoicing, behailing the fall before the desire kicks the mind to the offing, and then off the fear we slide to the joy, to the rapture slipped from a cracked sensibility and the viable strains stitched to the machine replaying the beloved oldies from the ages dripped like aged creosote from the rusted vents left without care or thought, feeling the metallic blockage in the main vein strangling maternal flows required by the the assumed masters lining the celebrity boxes at the old opera house in the head of rock-n-roll anthem kings forever.