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mr sord and the grocery capersthere once was a man called mr sord
mr sord was a shops owner and had some shopes on the main street all of them were like the same shop
it was like a grocery shop chain which he had all lines up in a row for some reaons because i guess he was absent in that business class in school where they said having a chain of shops all in a row was a fucking stupid idea.
anyway he had this chain of shops and he sold groceries and dvd rental from all of them except the third one from the end which had a bit where you could sell old dvds and vhs tapes and shit instead of the dvd rental thing and i guess that was how he kept his stock up or whatever.
anyway in all of the shops he had this secret which peopel weren't allowed to know or it would be a bad thing for him and that secret was that he took multipack bags of crisps and sold them individually
someone noticed one time and he got in trouble
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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