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Nikita Pegovцитирует2 года назад
he would later tell interviewers of his memory of his parents lying in bed, holding hands, reading Ulysses to each other
Nikita Pegovцитирует2 года назад
Dave was in the local paper with a picture, hand up, pouncing on a question. His name appeared again that same year when a poem he wrote about Boneyard Creek, an old irrigation ditch that passed behind the local library, shared first prize:
Did you know that rats breed there?
That garbage is their favorite lair.
Nikita Pegovцитирует2 года назад
then retreat into the pack. He threw snowballs at a classmate on his paper route, then ran away when the boy confronted him, then came back out and threw them again. He mocked the boy’s father’s love of flowers.
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