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First, The Thud of Locusts
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Near the establishment of the hour...
The earth shall inherit the meek.
There was silence. Bright silence. There was nothing anyone could say, or wanted to. That's when we knew it was over.
I have an MFA in poetry from the University of Florida, and since poets make no money, I'm looking into the lucrative profession of fly fishing, though I've never been fond of that much silence, or fishing.
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