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Gratefulness
The glory of the sensual world may be expanding according to a crusty New England poet who astonished the literary world today with a press-conference revelation of his researches. “Everything’s lusher,” mused the poet, speaking before an audience of some 50-odd reporters and photographers assembled in his garret. He cited several beautiful flowers and an extraordinary cloud that passed over Western Massachusetts, he says, sometime last week. “Even the traffic lights,” mused the poet, “even the lives of critics.” His comments have already called forth a universal cavalcade of assent from commentators including a posthumous encomium from Walt Whitman. “Damn straight it’s lusher,” Whitman opines in part, “Fact is, it always was.”
All rights reserved. Posted with kind permission of the poet.
Beloved, you know who I’m calling to, though I mistake you for the bird’s song,…
This was a day when nothing happened, the children went off to school without a…
You darken as my knife slices blushing at what you become. I save your thick…
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