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--- J A N E T B U C K A fine martini with its straw wasn't busy burning barns, just rendering comfort its aching dew. Cool it was, at outset's plan. A game of purposeful emptiness leaving us wondering what was said. Cheeks of red mosaic tile-- bottles for trips to Sunday Mass. Take a swig and settle in. Pour another runaway. Legal junkies on a roll between hung layers of our fat. |
© crossconnect 1995-2000
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published in association with the
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university of pennsylvania's
kelly writers house
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