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On the side of a hill in the deep forest green, tracing a sparrow on snow-crested ground,
blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves washes the grave with silvery tears,
a soldier cleans and polishes a gun.
War bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions, generals order their soldiers to kill
and to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

On break from learning the holes in your head

But we call them "foramen" to be nice.

And I gotta ask, what's up with the roll-on luggage as bookbag? I can understand part time profs using them (office on wheels), but students? I mean it just felt like I was going through O'Hare Airport just now.

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