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In a Town for Which I Know No Name I think of your blind odor too long till I collide with barbers, and am suspected. The clerk malingers when I nod. I am still afraid of the natural. Even the decrepit animals, coveting their papers and curbs, awake and go breathing through the warm darkness of hotel halls. I think that they are you coming back from the colossal obscurity of your exhausted passions, and dash to the door again. 10 ...

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