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The object on its way to Aruba somehow got intercepted and held. But everything is OK now. The underground traders are on the move again. They’re going to try to have it displayed in the plaza briefly and get a good price for it so they can have real money to buy real things. They’ll be glad to get rid of it, because it’s a real “hot potato” and once they get some real cash they’ll be able to buy a hot potato or some potato chips or a private plane or something…. We’ll see, they always have grand plans and I’m supposed to get a commission or is it part of the blame… hey I’m not culpable for any mischief they might have done in this whole process. I’m just the designer or… oh nevermind, I’ve said too much already

I don’t think I’m going to have anymore time to write poetry. I agreed to help write a subversive blog for a small clan of Ut’ishsih people who have lived in secret caves until recently. One of them, my friend, Zawmb’yee Nuje, was recently appointed to be temporary High Priestess, but she’s let the power go to her head. Before she went totally crazy, she turned over the Blog to me. I’ve been staying at Angela’s place after Zawmb’yee and I broke up. And by the way, Z writes good poems too. Well, maybe I’ll write a few more about the revolution if it seems relevant

book-pitch

 

POETRY e-book

The Murder of Asperger’s Last Poet: The Poetry Legacy

Available on Amazon, ISBN: 978-1-312-94214-1

Amazon US
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— Douglas Gilbert

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