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In Spite Of Them
The sane and the powerful have had their way with the world and, truly, they've not left us much. But still there's this April afternoon and the kind old bartender calls me Cap'n as he pours the drinks, tall and strong. The jukebox plays and you are there with eyes of cat, hair of raven and laughter like something holy. We are beautiful, still, in spite of them. And clever, yes, we'll make some magic out of this. |