I haven't written anything on this blog lately, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm dead. I am recovering from stomach flu, however, which is the next best thing. I was at least going to show you another one of my canadian rabbits before I crawl back into bed, but Bloogle won't allow it today, for some reason. So how about a found poem instead?
“We sight cast to tailing reds
a 25-inch west-side
caught on a popper. Waters
support double digit days,
vast unpressured flats,
thick seagrass meadows.”
"You only give me your funny papers"
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The man in his 60s had been talking to people at the United gate; he was
clearly a man who liked to converse. We sat next to each other in row 28. A
v...
2 days ago
