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But I knew the end, had already been there.
Touched its elongated snout, the awful hairs.
Watched it pushing its pie tin around
the backyard, its tiny crossed eyes so close
to the ground. Ars Poetica by Bridget Lowe, excerpt
But I knew the end, had already been there.
Touched its elongated snout, the awful hairs.
Watched it pushing its pie tin around
the backyard, its tiny crossed eyes so close
to the ground. Ars Poetica by Bridget Lowe, excerpt