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When I read one of my own poems in a magazine it always seems different. Not quite mine. It's now partly theirs. The editor has given it a context having nothing to do with me or my life.
I read my poem for the first time in this new position, familiar old poem. And I wonder how it would strike me were it written by someone else. It has some turns of phrase that stand out. It has an appealingly long title. After awhile I will post the poem on this blog or LuvSet. I'll let Matter be the only place you can see it until then.
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