goodacres night, lovelorn swigs
all like overgrown hair on face wisps of hair between legs or arms leaneing on fireplace mantels, rearranges photographs of children or friends some photos come with the frame and puffs at pipe, speaks a little truth, then drinks himself mad: passes out on sofa bent over the armrest, drooling.
2003-12-09 | 3:07 p.m.
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