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1690 | Radio Puppetry
https://radiopuppetry.wordpress.com/2012/06/19/1690
Just another WordPress.com site. My Mother’s bloodline flowed with the blood of Anglo-Saxon Kings, Earls and Duchesses. I doubt she suspected in her humble Appalachian childhood, dressed in flour sack dresses and smothered with coal town ennui, that she was a fair daughter of Charlemagne. Earls begat Earls and when Yorkshire’s morals got too loose the Earls begot themselves to Holland, prepping for the trip to the promised land. My Father stole a car when he was seventeen, and the judge in Bridgeport said.
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A Dirge | Radio Puppetry
https://radiopuppetry.wordpress.com/2012/06/12/a-dirge
Just another WordPress.com site. I woke up late and the world had passed away. And no one had called. So I closed my eyes and tried to dream. The dream that awakened me. Asian elephants were moving logs to aid in the construct of a temple. To honor a great and unknown god. But the dog was up and I couldn’t get back. So I promised myself coffee and I smoked the day’s first cigarettes. While the coffee maker dripped under the sky-less day. All along this day’s lain waiting, tightening. You are commenting u...
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For Grace | Radio Puppetry
https://radiopuppetry.wordpress.com/2012/06/14/for-grace
Just another WordPress.com site. The world is this; the sleeping child. Born from dust, but for a while. The sovereign of her angel’s cares. And protector of a ragged bear. And while she sleeps, and sleep she must, the world is turning still I trust. Turning ever towards tomorrow , whose anxious hours I wake to borrow. To watch her sleep with all her days laid out for her in all the ways. The fates allow and heaven saves for little girls before their grave. And somber fathers let them go. Next post →.
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This Mayfly Life | Radio Puppetry
https://radiopuppetry.wordpress.com/2012/06/02/this-mayfly-life
Just another WordPress.com site. This Mayfly life we share. Is passing in incremental sunsets. So hold my hand a little longer. You will be an old woman soon. But smile for me. Smile and press your little hand in mine. While we still have light. This surf will wear away our footprints. We’re born to die before the waves. This long parade of goodbyes. Will carve lines near your eyes. But walk with me a little longer. Then you can dance in your tides. I’ll be watching. My toes anchored in the sand. Enter y...