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If Flaubert Wrote Iron JohnWoke early, pinky clouds scudding in blue, blue sky.Storm blowing straight through. Pines sing loud, same the blackbirds. The other wife is spreading seed, sifting ash, Opening curtains. Managing. I lie abed with coffee, a novel. The winter husband has gone south. |
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Issue #22/23, October, 2001 :
Santa Fe Poetry Broadside.