Amy Kitchener's Angels Without Wings
Presents the maiden voyage of the space ship
AZNATSYROTS
Introducing crew member
AL BECK
Monroe City, Missouri;
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As I suddenly began to create rhyme, I found myself about to commit a crime. Oh, nothing for which I'd be put in jail; but writing a poem which could easily fail unless I could use as verbal resource a limerick or jingle without being coarse. How about stuff my mother used to read to me? Her favorite words she'd bring-'em, sing-'em, fling-'em, even sling-'em about like a Byzantine banshee. . . So when at school the teacher expected us to write, I took a book and snatched ideas from it cheering my cheating because I was needing a neat feat for: deceit HALF-CENTURY LATER Now fifty years have disappeared and seriously. . . it's as I feared: the guilt is gone like a fresh four-footed fawn. It bled out -- not when hit by a car -- but at the point where it seemed so bizarre to presume how comfortable we are when mentally wounded by piracy we only perspire -- you see? Today I'm a braying big buck -- horns and all -- paying no attention to the hungry Hunter's call. And if His shot finally rings out, it'll still give time to shout: "It wasn't a matter of stealing truth; that issue degenerated as I lost my youth."
| Al Beck ANTI-HALLOWEEN A THOUGHTFUL VIBRATION for second half HALF-CENTURY LATER
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