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Название книги: Demon Box
Автор(ы): Ken Kesey
Жанр: Современная проза
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/Demon-Box-229946.html
To Jedacross the river riding pointTARNISHED GALAHAD… what the judge called him at his trial – - written later, on the run, in Mexico:Down to five pesos from five thousand dollarsDown to the dregs from the lip-smacking foamDown to a dopefiend from a prizewinning scholarDown to the bush from a civilized home.What people once called a promising talentWhat used to be known as an upstanding ladNow hounded and hunted by the law of two countriesAnd judged to be only a Tarnished Galahad.Tarnished Galahad – did your sword get rusted?Tarnished Galahad – there's no better name!Keep running and hiding 'til the next time you're bustedAnd locked away to suffer your guilt, and shame.– pretty much what happened.
D TANK KICKOUT
I check in at the SM County facilities dressed in my usual leather jacket, striped pants and shoes, silver whistle hanging around my neck. They allow you to wear street business up at camp. The bulls here at County Slam hate the policy. Lt. Gerder looks up from his typewriter sees my outfit and his already st
Название книги: Demon Box
Автор(ы): Ken Kesey
Жанр: Современная проза
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/Demon-Box-229946.html
To Jedacross the river riding pointTARNISHED GALAHAD… what the judge called him at his trial – - written later, on the run, in Mexico:Down to five pesos from five thousand dollarsDown to the dregs from the lip-smacking foamDown to a dopefiend from a prizewinning scholarDown to the bush from a civilized home.What people once called a promising talentWhat used to be known as an upstanding ladNow hounded and hunted by the law of two countriesAnd judged to be only a Tarnished Galahad.Tarnished Galahad – did your sword get rusted?Tarnished Galahad – there's no better name!Keep running and hiding 'til the next time you're bustedAnd locked away to suffer your guilt, and shame.– pretty much what happened.
D TANK KICKOUT
I check in at the SM County facilities dressed in my usual leather jacket, striped pants and shoes, silver whistle hanging around my neck. They allow you to wear street business up at camp. The bulls here at County Slam hate the policy. Lt. Gerder looks up from his typewriter sees my outfit and his already st
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