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Post by mfwilkie on Jan 13, 2009 23:01:15 GMT -5
Oscillating fans are a poor substitute for the back-breath of incoming tides. Sometimes. Most times. If, of a sudden, flowers arrived in the company of appreciation and five pounds of plain M&Ms, I'd have to stop reading Berrigan. Become a clever woman. My teeth would hurt. I want your pen staining my sheets with sonnets, inking my thighs with words to feed the sea.
Sometimes you men are dullards, and very often, further away than Mars.
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Post by LynnDoiron on Jan 14, 2009 1:03:33 GMT -5
like this one, mugs
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Post by David Nelson Bradsher on Jan 14, 2009 7:49:33 GMT -5
I like it, too, Mags. Five pounds of M & Ms? The most you ever sent me was one. Berrigan? Blech!
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Post by Jo Lynn Ehnes on Jan 14, 2009 9:34:24 GMT -5
quite often, in fact, and I like this revision.
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Post by Ron Wallace (Scotshawk) on Jan 20, 2009 18:55:18 GMT -5
Really like where this has come to. I like it a lot. Mars isn't all that far away, and at least we're not always dullards, okay, frequently, but not always. Go Yankees!!! Ron
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Post by Timothy Juhl on Jan 20, 2009 20:13:03 GMT -5
Maggie,
I really like this revision, particularly the break before the final two lines. It gives the form an interesting rhythm and reinforces those final images for the reader. I've also fallen in love with the lines 'Sometimes./Most times. and I have no earthly idea why other than their simplicity that belies a deeper thought.
Tim
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