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24 r o B e r t s o n Like the panties newman stuffed inside his steel pot or that rosary meyer wound about his neck robertson kept a ring of smoke around his head. eleven months he did Thai sticks for a dollar through the wire and every dawn some fog rolled in across the breakers in his brain. a hot shrapnel scrap kissed his kneecap sent him back to Burlington. Jesus—what a war— to leave him hanging here back in the world his brain uncured still smoking in its skin. ...

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