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"denominator" poems
Acknowledge that we are each our own common denominator! The sum of all our parts, brought to account ! The book stops with us!
0
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 10:44 AM UTC
Accounting problems solved
birds of a feather no one has put two and two together daisies gone Occam’s razor and he our common denominator no monsters under his bed but in it scars ripped open I thought had healed hurt to heal heal to hurt words I had never spoken out loud before hot lava righteous anger memory loss & found negatives was that a kindness? to ply me with alcohol so that I wouldn't remember? two weeks no sleep no eat hurt to heal heal to hurt a new hurt to contend with suddenly ghosted back in the dark like all dark eating away at light till only the stars remain maybe signalling to one another I see you, I see you, I see
0
Oct 3, 2020
Oct 3, 2020 at 9:20 PM UTC
trauma
Trophies for last place, And a Holiday for every weekend. A taste of this and that... OF Italy and Ireland and Asia and Germany and every township in the county, and 3 collective Miles of Portable Toilets, Strategically Positioned throughout each event. cause there is going to be a Lot of **** Hooray for whatever we are celebrating this weekend. Whichever one of the 30 different Woodstocks Or week long Music Festivals That exist only so the Hippest of Hipsters can congratulate each other on how Indie they are. Ya know, it's happy hour somewhere... Why not party All Day, Everyday? Devalue the weekend Like we have thanksgiving And New Years. A Five Kay For the Common Cold, And We'll even give trophies for last place. Cause we're all winners here. and we're all hungry. And What represents your heritage better than Pizza or sauerkraut or General Tso's And endless flowing barrels of refreshing, Ice cold, Domestically brewed and Nationally brand recognized Alcoholic Beverages? IT's The Great Dumb Down, Charlie Brown!!! A symptom of the Universe If there ever was one. Mass anesthesia to keep us all content With our collective mediocrities, our Forfeit Potential, Our Day Job that doesn't pay very well, But kind has benefits. So we stay on. In fear of nothing better. It makes feel important. Like Wheel of Fortune makes us feel smart. (Wow, you can spell?!)... Dwindling returns in a world of Beige and Pastels And the Muted Grays of limestone concrete. We Accept less and we Get less and we accept less and we Get less And On And on and on, till we hit that lowest common cultural denominator, where your race is what food you eat, And we all qualify for the special Olympics.
0
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
Peppermint Pattie's Farting Circus
Trophies for last place, And a Holiday for every weekend. A taste of this and that... OF Italy and Ireland and Asia and Germany and every township in the county, and 3 collective Miles of Portable Toilets, Strategically Positioned throughout each event. cause there is going to be a Lot of **** Hooray for whatever we are celebrating this weekend. Whichever one of the 30 different Woodstocks Or week long Music Festivals That exist only so the Hippest of Hipsters can congratulate each other on how Indie they are. Ya know, it's happy hour somewhere... Why not party All Day, Everyday? Devalue the weekend Like we have thanksgiving And New Years. A Five Kay For the Common Cold, And We'll even give trophies for last place. Cause we're all winners here. and we're all hungry. And What represents your heritage better than Pizza or sauerkraut or General Tso's And endless flowing barrels of refreshing, Ice cold, Domestically brewed and Nationally brand recognized Alcoholic Beverages? IT's The Great Dumb Down, Charlie Brown!!! A symptom of the Universe If there ever was one. Mass anesthesia to keep us all content With our collective mediocrities, our Forfeit Potential, Our Day Job that doesn't pay very well, But kind has benefits. So we stay on. In fear of nothing better. It makes feel important. Like Wheel of Fortune makes us feel smart. (Wow, you can spell?!)... Dwindling returns in a world of Beige and Pastels And the Muted Grays of limestone concrete. We Accept less and we Get less and we accept less and we Get less And On And on and on, till we hit that lowest common cultural denominator, where your race is what food you eat, And we all qualify for the special Olympics.
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50
In this Developed Nation, a 19 year old woman sleeps in a bag in a door way. In this Developed Nation, a working family of four relies on the local food bank. In this Developed Nation, grandmothers live on a pittance and die lonely. In this Developed Nation, my friends use drugs to fill a spiritual chasm. In this Developed Nation, stateless refugees are kept in cages while processed. In this Developed Nation, slave labour is abolished, but persists. In this Developed Nation, the media patronizes and panders to the lowest common denominator. In this Developed Nation, the unscrupulous employers bulldoze workers rights. In this Developed Nation, the population is kept divided and ineffective. In this Developed Nation, ‘I’m not a racist...but...’ In this Developed Nation, black people are stop/searched nine times more than whites. In this Developed Nation, under four percent of **** reports end in conviction. In this Developed Nation, seventeen percent of adults take anti-depressants. In this Developed Nation, suicide is the biggest killer of men under fifty. In this Developed Nation, children cut themselves to relieve pain. In this Developed Nation, I’m a snowflake if I care. What has this Nation Developed into?
0
Aug 16, 2020
Aug 16, 2020 at 10:41 AM UTC
This Developed Nation?
Quack Doctor Fake Supervisor Bogus Professor Deceitful Color Common Denominator. Bomb Inventor Rifle Creator Device Innovator Reigning Terror Common Denominator. Untruthful Suitor Promiscuous Actor Love Collector Artificial Amour Common Denominator. Abusive Creditor Illegal Investor Unlawful Director Greed Factor Common Denominator. Rogue Investigator Friendly Assassinator Double Conspirator Backstab Traitor Common Denominator.
0
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 10:06 PM UTC
Common Denominator
That night, the moon was so bright its beams gave us shadows dancing for joy as we walked, hand in hand in wonder at the wildness of our brave new world with strange rules of addition: a planet where one plus one equals one, no longer the loneliest number but the most beautiful common denominator.
0
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 9:36 AM UTC
Simple Math
Stories, truths, lies, all these lines, So confused as to what is happening. Like riding a rodeo, Dust and rope, rain and shine, Been a year thinking, and breaking bones, Healing, taking bumps, watching phishermen As they try to pick the lock of my heart. The truth is no one knows my story, No one knows his story, They take letters, unscramble them to make a sound A sound that is not yet proven to be true, either way. I have time to think and make my move. No one is rushing it, I am not, he is not, We are on the same page, but the healing begins. The only way you will get the answer is not by words, Understanding math, and finding the common denominator Is the only possible solution. I am the solution to the problem, not the problem. Math can sometimes be difficult, because There are ways to finding the solution, But if you're not careful, there may be many numbers Not useful, and the remainders will have to be Reworked until there is a clear denominator for Solution to this equation. Rumors have it that I did not show my right to him. However, truth says that time and space heals wounds. I do not have to doubt my love, Because I see where the common denominator is. Rumors have it that I drove him crazy, Truth is that I feared love and he opened me up to it. Rumors have it that I am not right for him, Truth has it that solutions are sometimes painful, But only the one can be the solution to my problem. Rumor has it that I think I am the one, The truth is the only common denominator that seeks To make the math problem whole is the one. Rumors say, that I will not feel loved again, Truth says, it is love that is opening me up from a distance. Rumors say I do not belong in his life, The truth says, I already exist in his life, I am the one he suffered to fix me, and I accept it. Rumors say I have no peace because I have no love, Truth says he is the one that opened me to love. Rumors say I am a broken dream with no hope, Truth says I am the hope that brings peace to dreams. Rumors say I am nobody and fat and ugly, Truth says, my heart opened and my ugliness has Moved on to peace, love, and understanding. Rumors say, why you like younger people? Truth says, my youth is what brings me the joy I seek. Rumors say leave it alone, you will never have him, Truth says, I already did, and now I am more open. Rumors say you will never last, Truth says, true love, lasts a lifetime. Rumors say you caused the separation, Truth says, my heart was inseparable and I will prove it. Rumors say, distance ruins relationships, Truth says distance is what heals obstacles and barriers. Rumors say I have some many barriers to open love, Truth says love is what opened my barriers to freedom. Rumors say the foundation to my heart is broken, Reality says brokenness is the foundation of fixing The broken pieces that will show the one Who is the one in space and time to fix my brokenness. Rumors do not believe in love but fear that love exists, Truth believes that love exists and hope is the key. Rumors need a reality check, The truth knows where it is heading on this journey.
0
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 3:34 PM UTC
Rumors
Stories, truths, lies, all these lines, So confused as to what is happening. Like riding a rodeo, Dust and rope, rain and shine, Been a year thinking, and breaking bones, Healing, taking bumps, watching phishermen As they try to pick the lock of my heart. The truth is no one knows my story, No one knows his story, They take letters, unscramble them to make a sound A sound that is not yet proven to be true, either way. I have time to think and make my move. No one is rushing it, I am not, he is not, We are on the same page, but the healing begins. The only way you will get the answer is not by words, Understanding math, and finding the common denominator Is the only possible solution. I am the solution to the problem, not the problem. Math can sometimes be difficult, because There are ways to finding the solution, But if you're not careful, there may be many numbers Not useful, and the remainders will have to be Reworked until there is a clear denominator for Solution to this equation. Rumors have it that I did not show my right to him. However, truth says that time and space heals wounds. I do not have to doubt my love, Because I see where the common denominator is. Rumors have it that I drove him crazy, Truth is that I feared love and he opened me up to it. Rumors have it that I am not right for him, Truth has it that solutions are sometimes painful, But only the one can be the solution to my problem. Rumor has it that I think I am the one, The truth is the only common denominator that seeks To make the math problem whole is the one. Rumors say, that I will not feel loved again, Truth says, it is love that is opening me up from a distance. Rumors say I do not belong in his life, The truth says, I already exist in his life, I am the one he suffered to fix me, and I accept it. Rumors say I have no peace because I have no love, Truth says he is the one that opened me to love. Rumors say I am a broken dream with no hope, Truth says I am the hope that brings peace to dreams. Rumors say I am nobody and fat and ugly, Truth says, my heart opened and my ugliness has Moved on to peace, love, and understanding. Rumors say, why you like younger people? Truth says, my youth is what brings me the joy I seek. Rumors say leave it alone, you will never have him, Truth says, I already did, and now I am more open. Rumors say you will never last, Truth says, true love, lasts a lifetime. Rumors say you caused the separation, Truth says, my heart was inseparable and I will prove it. Rumors say, distance ruins relationships, Truth says distance is what heals obstacles and barriers. Rumors say I have some many barriers to open love, Truth says love is what opened my barriers to freedom. Rumors say the foundation to my heart is broken, Reality says brokenness is the foundation of fixing The broken pieces that will show the one Who is the one in space and time to fix my brokenness. Rumors do not believe in love but fear that love exists, Truth believes that love exists and hope is the key. Rumors need a reality check, The truth knows where it is heading on this journey.
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63
My wife, Karen, was an excellent cook..... learned from her mother... Who learned from her mother My sister-in-law, Marcia, magnificent.... learned from her mother.... Who learned from her mother My mother, Grace, exceptional... especially, when it came to "pies." Learned from her mother.... who learned from her mother.... Well, they had to learn the art from somewhere! "Magicians in their kitchens", my father-in-law, Larry, often said, when Karen's mother started preparing a festive meal, especially for a holiday such as Christmas or New Year's. (She could prepare a Crown Roast so tender it could be cut with the blade of a toy rubber knife). All three had a common denominator that was learned from their mothers, our "Grandmothers." Very seldom did either of them use a measuring cup, or spoon. A 'pinch' of this, a 'dash' of that! If the recipe called for a cup of milk, Karen's mother would tip that bottle of milk over the *** count to "two", utter "that's about enough." If a recipe called for a cup of flour, my mother would extend her hand over the bowl, pour the flour into her hand, "that's about right," she'd say. The best apple, or peach pie, you ever tasted. "There's something missing", was Marcia's favorite statement, then reach into the pantry for "whatever." Passed down from grandmothers, to mothers, to daughters, and to sons as well, we all knew that when we sat down at the table, for however long it would be, we would be in heaven. All because of........ "GRANDMOTHERS!" . .
0
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 3:11 PM UTC
Culinary Pleasures
My wife, Karen, was an excellent cook..... learned from her mother... Who learned from her mother My sister-in-law, Marcia, magnificent.... learned from her mother.... Who learned from her mother My mother, Grace, exceptional... especially, when it came to "pies." Learned from her mother.... who learned from her mother.... Well, they had to learn the art from somewhere! "Magicians in their kitchens", my father-in-law, Larry, often said, when Karen's mother started preparing a festive meal, especially for a holiday such as Christmas or New Year's. (She could prepare a Crown Roast so tender it could be cut with the blade of a toy rubber knife). All three had a common denominator that was learned from their mothers, our "Grandmothers." Very seldom did either of them use a measuring cup, or spoon. A 'pinch' of this, a 'dash' of that! If the recipe called for a cup of milk, Karen's mother would tip that bottle of milk over the *** count to "two", utter "that's about enough." If a recipe called for a cup of flour, my mother would extend her hand over the bowl, pour the flour into her hand, "that's about right," she'd say. The best apple, or peach pie, you ever tasted. "There's something missing", was Marcia's favorite statement, then reach into the pantry for "whatever." Passed down from grandmothers, to mothers, to daughters, and to sons as well, we all knew that when we sat down at the table, for however long it would be, we would be in heaven. All because of........ "GRANDMOTHERS!" . .
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17
- just another paper that panders to the lowest common deNominator. -
0
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC
Meeting Standards
Transnational capitalism is a gluttonous preoccupation of the aristocrat. Although Simone De Beauvoir nailed her colors to the metaphorical mast of equality, it is reasonable to acknowledge that our perimeter lies beyond intra-personal vistas of gender identity and ****** preference. The Lord of the Manor will grant entry to your greasy soul, if you embrace the common denominator of anthropological affiliation. So, weary pilgrim, on this treacherous journey of presumed arrival: I urge you to identify that spiritual lobotomy of the majority where ontological convenience jeopardises the rich tapestry of our planet’s pulse. Collectivism has a cosmological duality which will never be reconciled as long as parliamentary ridicule insults the intelligence of equilibrium. Whatever happened to democracy? And, why do you simply conform to dictatorial messages which sink their teeth into the very flesh of community existence? We may not be able to alter the direction of the wind, but we can truly adjust our sails.
0
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:55 PM UTC
Revolting Modernity
Born with flesh and blood, but heart sold separately. Bird way up high, falling from the sky. The raining aftermath is the common denominator. When it shockwaves from ground zero, it leaves an atomic shadow—fatal impressions where a living, breathing thing once stood...
0
May 20, 2021
May 20, 2021 at 9:27 AM UTC
Unforgettable Fire
This problem has gone on so long we always reach the same old sum divided by lies multiplied by my failure to learn In division, we carried over the sequences of your dishonesty compounded by lack of ownership numbers don't lie you brought a lot of uncertainty into the equation it played a huge factor the lowest common denominator I never was good at arithmetic, but something doesn't add up subtract me
0
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 10:18 AM UTC
doing the math
I am I am just average, just just if the world was but average, average just then the median would be the message , the high and the low, the uncommon just, the common denominator this circular world then, just a plane with no human stupid thickness, neither halted or divided, no above or below, all of us upon it exactly the at the sane level, possessing only the wit of width and depth the promise of of being just just just what a wonderful world this would be 11-1-14
0
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 10:51 AM UTC
Just Average (The Geometry Thereof)
I’ve forgot what beauty smells like after the gulls and the four winds loving the memory of something or someone on the coast and stomach-aching dismal you are the denominator and i hate arithmetic math algebra of all the nonsensical i loath the formula that makes me think of you it’s tested. tried. tried tried tried tried tried. and tried it’s a formula that doesn’t let me have anygoddamnedthing and here with the metronome heartbeat of god and water and my mother earth the glare of alone can blind
0
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 7:00 PM UTC
E.
you did nothing wrong you are amazing i just don’t want to be in a relationship right now i was the common denominator fool me once - shame on you fool me twice - shame on me get broken up with for the same reason four times - it’s a ******* pattern how do I explain to someone new that I am running out of pieces of myself to give away that i’ve stopped saving phone numbers in my phone until somebody proves that they’re going to stay that I don’t even know how to talk about myself because the things that make me - me were the reasons why everyone else left that i haven’t figured out what I’m doing wrong and my track record makes me not want to try how do you tell someone new... that you already know they aren’t going to stay
0
Mar 24, 2021
Mar 24, 2021 at 9:23 PM UTC
First Date Introductions
My hand was covered with drying blood. The broken pieces of the things you cared about cut me, and I was willing, and I was able, and I picked them up and put them away. A scratch meant nothing. The blood meant I was alive. My scribbles came straight from the heart. I wanted nothing more than to sleep there at your door, but it's a dangerous place and a dangerous time and if you opened it up, I might have stood a chance. I didn't mean to interrupt you. I didn't mean to hurt you. But we all lose battles, don't we? I used to be meek and quiet about these messes. Then, I felt like **** But now, I'm the common denominator and wonder why I don't quite fit. What the **** is wrong with me? When I was with you, I was perfect, but all together, we were broken. All apologies, polite signatures, and formal decoration. I am here to make you happy I am here to lose my mind. I am echoing echoing echoing and the feedback is deeper than I ever wanted to think it could be. I slump downwards and dream in reverse. When I wake up, I'm in my own bed, my own sheets, my own warm red blanket. You speak no metaphors. You have no tongue and no eyes and I refuse to sleep again only to defy you. "You're scary when you don't sleep," you say. And I bare my sharp-toothed grin. And when this all comes down, a tiny crack opens and everything I fear in me is springs back to life and feasts on my fluttering heart, knowing it will not have another meal for a very long time. As I sit here, desperate to dissolve into billions of little particles and float away as if I was never here, I pick up the phone to call an old friend. Four rings. A pre-recorded voice. She asks me to leave a message. But a robot takes her place. "I'm sorry. It is done. You may not." Beep. Click. I'm alone once again. [Apr. 3, 2011]
0
Dec 21, 2011
Dec 21, 2011 at 2:07 AM UTC
Insecurities.
My hand was covered with drying blood. The broken pieces of the things you cared about cut me, and I was willing, and I was able, and I picked them up and put them away. A scratch meant nothing. The blood meant I was alive. My scribbles came straight from the heart. I wanted nothing more than to sleep there at your door, but it's a dangerous place and a dangerous time and if you opened it up, I might have stood a chance. I didn't mean to interrupt you. I didn't mean to hurt you. But we all lose battles, don't we? I used to be meek and quiet about these messes. Then, I felt like **** But now, I'm the common denominator and wonder why I don't quite fit. What the **** is wrong with me? When I was with you, I was perfect, but all together, we were broken. All apologies, polite signatures, and formal decoration. I am here to make you happy I am here to lose my mind. I am echoing echoing echoing and the feedback is deeper than I ever wanted to think it could be. I slump downwards and dream in reverse. When I wake up, I'm in my own bed, my own sheets, my own warm red blanket. You speak no metaphors. You have no tongue and no eyes and I refuse to sleep again only to defy you. "You're scary when you don't sleep," you say. And I bare my sharp-toothed grin. And when this all comes down, a tiny crack opens and everything I fear in me is springs back to life and feasts on my fluttering heart, knowing it will not have another meal for a very long time. As I sit here, desperate to dissolve into billions of little particles and float away as if I was never here, I pick up the phone to call an old friend. Four rings. A pre-recorded voice. She asks me to leave a message. But a robot takes her place. "I'm sorry. It is done. You may not." Beep. Click. I'm alone once again. [Apr. 3, 2011]
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12
As I sit in front of the feared book mocking me with it's elaborative examples of reminders reminding me of all that I can't do... the x's and the y's programs my brain forcing an instant recall of memories about all my ex's and my why's and as I fail exercise after exercise I start doubting my rationality... What is the probability that I , am nothing more than a common denominator?? the truth is, that while trying to figure out the identities of sin, cos and tan... I realise that my own is not yet figured out... I am still lost somewhere in the Cartesian plane... I have no hope for passing my exam tomorrow... my sleepless nights are haunted by the statistics , and the improbabilities that make up life as we know it... but that's okay because I am not analytical... I am not mathematical... I am just lost between the letters and the numbers of a world I will never understand...
0
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 10:27 AM UTC
Studying for maths
“A demagogue, in the strict signification of the word, is a 'leader of the rabble'.”                         — James Fenimore Cooper, "On Demagogues" a political leader who seeks support by appealing to popular desires & prejudices rather than by using rational argument; A demagogue or rabble-rouser is a leader in a democracy who gains popularity by exploiting prejudice & ignorance among the common people, whipping up the passions of the crowd & shutting down reasoned deliberations; rabble-rouser, agitator, political agitator, soapbox orator, firebrand, fomenter, provocateur "he was drawn into a circle of campus demagogues" Only in ancient Greece and Rome was it a leader or orator who espoused the cause of the common people; demagogues overturn established customs of political conduct, or promise or threaten to do so; demagogues have appeared in democracies since ancient Athens. They exploit a fundamental weakness in democracy: because ultimate power is held by the people, it is possible for the people to give that power to someone who appeals   to the lowest common denominator of a large segment of the population; demagogues usually advocate immediate, forceful action to address a national crisis while accusing moderate & thoughtful opponents                                        of weakness or disloyalty
0
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 7:44 PM UTC
On Demagogues 2018
Americans ... Is it just Americans you're talking about here Trump? ... those chosen, those special people, those singular red-blooded people, because I'm a little confused here as you didn't seem to consider Syrian refugees as bleeding the same red blood even when it flowed so freely for them over there in their pitiless homeland, & Hispanic immigrants, they bled red too, or being rapists & murderers was it a tainted red? & black folks? was their blood red? from reading your White Supremacist re-tweets I figured darker skinned Americans had some innate handicaps or un-American tendencies & thus their blood was a might different to us white folks, & Muslims? do they bleed red too? or is it a special breed of red, an Islamic red? a special sort of red that favors deportation as says Brietbart news or that forbids them entry as per your unforgivable attempt at en-masse criminalization. There was no bleeding of the same red blood as you appealed to the lowest denominator in white folk bigotry during your successful rise to top of the heap in Republican vengefulness, bitterness & just plain Supremacist American red blooded horror was there? No, there wasn't.
0
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 10:14 PM UTC
"We all bleed the same red blood"
Would you get a load of this priick... Entitlement punk crybaby excrement In mom's basement Everyday Trying to **** his own wick No *********** with a chick Mildly pathetic Still Stream it to the public Embarrassment is gonna hit Shoulda quit To late Now this is what you get Find blame and aim it Control the topic "It ain't me" ...so it must be women's empowerment? Assuming you never knew what rhetorical meant You can't know that wasn't I'm asking, That's not a statement The angers placement Seems specifically targeted doesn't it Common denominator Looks to be your equipment... ...dip shiit Y'all need Jesus, you're sick ©2024
0
Apr 12, 2024
Apr 12, 2024 at 3:22 PM UTC
~•§•~ Incel ~•§•~
when we remember what the times have been that made us into what     and who     we are today we travel deep into our past to hear our mother’s voice our father’s not so friendly gripes when we fouled up a task he gave to  us our friends, our teachers, our loves whose interactions shaped who we eventually have become   while we believe that we have always been      so independent and  autonomous it may be worth a moment to reflect      upon the influences      we are inclined to casually neglect and recognize the fact      that we are always part      of that great whole      which we so desperately try      to disavow for individuality only to recognize a few years later the minimal common denominator life is a wonderful excursion into space and time always surprising, turning on a dime, leaving us puzzled well unto the end always intent to look beyond the next bend of the river …….
0
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 7:46 PM UTC
who we are
*Pain gets written around one's eyes  like eye liner, for all to notice let it be known to all now, it's our prime entitlement, these days "Citizen pain" has become our collective name for long, do we see? by distributing misery disproportionately, they bestowed on us this glory.*
0
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC
When pain is the common denominator
he is the common denominator between this circle of friends who reveal absurd ideas offer unspoken loyalty and place secrets in one another's vaults his NY apartment stands tall at HP
0
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
Nat Lipstadt is like Jerry Seinfeld