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Thursday, December 19, 2013

365 Poems: Pronouns. Guns. The Fonz.

Day 354

Self-portrait of me trying to write
 this stupid f-ing poem.
Out of the frying pan into the fire. Just as we solve one problem with a new stanza and a little realignment an ugly pronoun problem rears its ugly head. There are too many boys in the poem! And we've got to find a way to refer to them obliquely yet specifically. Think I'll sleep on that one. It's working so far.

Did you know? The Fonz went to London and he got interviewed by accident.

How did Kevin get left in Home Alone? THE TICKET DID IT. And you, dad.

NPR asked ex-pats what people in the countries they are living in think of America, and it's so right-on. Here's what we found in London last August: They think we all have guns. Lots of guns. And yet they all want to -- and have -- visited. And not just Disney World. People had been all over, including our cab driver. He was better traveled in the U.S. than me.




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