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Wednesday, November 14, 2007

At the botton of a fishing hole - on a chain and cender block

Last night, our local poetry society chapter celebrated Missouri's rich poetic heritage by reading from poets with Missouri connections, both living and deceased.

Then, later I put a poem in its second draft out of misery. I may steal a line from it for something else, but otherwise it is in the bottom of some Missouri fishing hole.





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