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  1. K

    what kind of poem is this?haiku..sestina..sonnet?? orr..?

    Beside the gravel pile, the lizard warms himself in the dazzling greenness of his life, watching us casually through half-lidded eyes. It is May. Next week he would have been 57. My daughter holds my hand, 3 years old and ignorant, the airsickness forgotten, and the hurried trip and interrupted...
  2. K

    Do news stations report the news or just bash other news stations for not reporting the

    news? Has news become a political propaganda machine for either party?
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