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mr vibraphone do you ever see people, self-relegated to secondary life, gods in silence? those who control and feign ignorance, lead as though chasing? i saw one, effaced, engrossed. a beard before a beautiful portrait, and every perfect muscle shown through a wardrobe of endearing false modesty. he was an accessory to the american set. he made me a fag and walked away. for once i felt no shame.
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