A bee upon a briar-rose hung And wild with pleasure suck’d and kiss’d; A flesh-fly near, with snout in dung, Sneer’d, ‘What a Transcendentalist!’
“Mountain air in our lungs, a hearty sausage-and-home-fries, fire cooked meal inside us both. A last wipe of oil along our bolt action Berettas — the two big bores we’ve entrusted for our try at the trophy racks.”
Beretta catalog | 1984
INSTAGRAM
BANDCAMP
YOUTUBE