The gold's still there but the glitter's gone, or maybe it was never there all along. A boat without a chance and a hull plagued with cracks, she was fucked from the womb. Should we expect more from intoxicated artisans? They say she's destined to sink, but sometimes I catch her flag twitching perfectly where the Earth curves. I stare long
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Rest In Peace dearest Joel Bennett.
May we meet in Heaven some day.
Debbie
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