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O Captain My Captain (by. Walt Whitman)
our fearful trip is done; The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is wo n; The port is O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain!
blog.naver.com · 2022.02.14
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“We need tickets for the Metronorth,” said Ellen. I was glad that at least one of us was capable of thinking clearly. “Two legs. West
“We need tickets for the Metronorth,” said Ellen. “So you’re … dead?” “Dang, Ellen. Where you taking us?” “Fuck you!”
blog.naver.com · 2016.06.23
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“We need tickets for the Metronorth,” said Ellen. I was glad that at least one of us was capable of thinking clearly. “Two legs. West
“We need tickets for the Metronorth,” said Ellen. “So you’re … dead?” “Dang, Ellen. Where you taking us?” “Fuck you!”
blog.naver.com · 2016.06.23
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glad that at least one of us was capable of thinking clearly. “Two legs. West back to Bridgeport and then north up to Naugatuck
“We need tickets for the Metronorth,” said Ellen. “So you’re … dead?” “Dang, Ellen. Where you taking us?” “Fuck you!”
blog.naver.com · 2016.06.23
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glad that at least one of us was capable of thinking clearly. “Two legs. West back to Bridgeport and then north up to Naugatuck
“We need tickets for the Metronorth,” said Ellen. “So you’re … dead?” “Dang, Ellen. Where you taking us?” “Fuck you!”
blog.naver.com · 2016.06.23
