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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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