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 | What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the streets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon. | |
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| poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys. | |
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| hungry fatigue? | |
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| Bring the boy back | |
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| Wil wel be walking the streets together, alone and lonely as the rest of the city closes up and goes to sleep | |
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| I am lost. There is a divide between me and America! | |
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