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By Jack Joseph Smith
Against the tree
Dresses on the street, wandering in old wood
We stripped cascara, our feet in sadle shoes
Our pocket knives sleek and sharp, our laughter
about ecogoly very quiet
+o run with words, or to fight
When we took the bar on the market,
along the Eugene railroad track,
We had already stold ghe wine
It was just xheese for your shot,
we were gettinh back