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When rains come down to flood the town
And earnest citizens really ought’er
try to make and keep things sort’er
dry…
I make water.
When water’s rare and cattle’s dying
and I’m as thirsty as can be
and long for some water in me –
God – damn it!
I still pee.
–– Maya Deren
Massachusetts, 1938
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Massachusetts, 1938
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nossa tripa não passa, mesmo, de um moinho d'água (ou, às vezes, de um pilão).
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