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Sunday, November 11, 2007
Out Loudhis voice makes my poems cook like a tin saucepan on a gas range his inflection-- feverish,
hot
this choice does satisfy a brief look a blink, a scan moments of change such
perfection within earshot
true, his voice like big sky an unfettered outlook blue heat, he
can exchange predilection for fresh thought
9:35 pm est
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