Fall 2010
Some people are so beautiful they belong everywhere that they go.
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Fidel narrates the home video: See the women on the beach? Beauty.
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The walls pull apart like a troubled couple, finally deciding to hold.
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The main thing a poet tries to do, above all things, is to write a poem.
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I looked out at the busy world, and I saw nothing but its ugly bones.
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While my plane had landed in Sweden, my soul still lagged behind.
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You quickly find nothing interests people so much as themselves.
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