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  <title>Caveat Lector</title>
  <subtitle>Let the Reader Beware</subtitle>
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  <updated>2008-08-21T06:37:52+00:00</updated>
  <entry>
    <title>je suis fatigue</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.caveatlector.com/content/je-suis-fatigue" />
    <id>http://www.caveatlector.com/content/je-suis-fatigue</id>
    <published>2008-08-21T06:37:52+00:00</published>
    <updated>2008-08-21T06:37:52+00:00</updated>
    <author>
      <name>Chris</name>
    </author>
    <category term="french" />
    <category term="poem" />
    <category term="poetry" />
    <summary type="html"><![CDATA[<p>and when the day grinds<br /> as i am alone and lonely<br /> in a place where a girl<br /> presses herself to me<br /> and people call to me and<br /> the sun shines on texas but<br /> it must be the gray it must<br /> be the loathsome gloom, no<br /> light to wake to wake to<br /> make the day come to me like<br /> fireworks to come to me and<br /> lay me astride as pretty latin<br /> women sit arched backed in<br /> white cafe chairs, smoking yellow-filtered<br /> cigarettes, pressing black curls<br /> behind the ear, crossing thighs<br /> licking lips, stroking hair, giggling,<br /> laughing, bending together in<br /> their muted conversation there<br /> on the veranda of the cafe of the cafe<br /> where they gesture and purse their<br /> mouths like bitterness. </p>
<address> &#169;1996 chris abraham </address>
    ]]></summary>
    <content type="html"><![CDATA[<p>and when the day grinds<br /> as i am alone and lonely<br /> in a place where a girl<br /> presses herself to me<br /> and people call to me and<br /> the sun shines on texas but<br /> it must be the gray it must<br /> be the loathsome gloom, no<br /> light to wake to wake to<br /> make the day come to me like<br /> fireworks to come to me and<br /> lay me astride as pretty latin<br /> women sit arched backed in<br /> white cafe chairs, smoking yellow-filtered<br /> cigarettes, pressing black curls<br /> behind the ear, crossing thighs<br /> licking lips, stroking hair, giggling,<br /> laughing, bending together in<br /> their muted conversation there<br /> on the veranda of the cafe of the cafe<br /> where they gesture and purse their<br /> mouths like bitterness. </p>
<address> &#169;1996 chris abraham </address>
    ]]></content>
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