In the Iliad room putting the newspaper together, I hear the Rodney King verdict. My Toyota Celica is parked outside.
I don't think there's a speed limit on campus, our newspaper advisor told me,
but if there were I have a feeling you've broken it. Bricks are being thrown at heads less than two hours north, but I'm line-taping. Later Tom and I will sit on a power box, back to back, singing TV theme songs, children with driver's licenses.
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