Posted on June 14, 2018
by Bob McCranie
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Where people get, no owls stay, a quibbling I picked with night, when further down the road the new guy hauled in lights, a trailer, bull-dozed his land, bought pit bulls, started raising rabbits. No one’s here but me. Still, he posted signs. What…
Category: 67. MayTags: Samuel Prestridge
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