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..:: CONTENTS ::..
   Volume VI, Issue II

..:: POETRY ::..


..:: PROSE ::..

..:: ETC ::..
   Contributor's Notes

..:: ARCHIVES ::..
   Volume I, Issue I
   Volume I, Issue II
   Volume II, Issue I
   Volume II, Issue II
   Volume III, Issue I
   Volume III, Issue II
   Volume IV, Issue I
   Volume IV, Issue II
   Volume V, Issue I
   Volume V, Issue II
   Volume VI, Issue I

 
Poetry


Just Like Buddy Holly
Howie Good

     

The he-man lifting the barbell grunts. Everybody's morning is different. I start mine with a pill, sometimes two, then smoke the last cigarette in the pack. And it's not because I believe Buddy Holly looked right at me at the show in Duluth three days before the plane crash. A seagull doesn't know that it's a seagull, only we know that and that its lidless yellow eyes are empty.

 

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