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:: Tuesday, March 11, 2008 :: I have somehow procured a cut just under my lower lip that, due to its shape and depth, appears to be the result of a collision of some sort. Personally, I think it's a spider bite gone bad, especially because I have no memory of its beginnings. But since it is right there on my face, people are bold to ask about it. I make up stories to amuse us both. "A bar room brawl," I say, "equestrian error," "a skydiving slip." They chuckle, possibly at the alliteration, possibly at the grandiosity of my little cut's origin. "An errant rake" -- I play some more -- "a jagged jellybean." That I don't really know doesn't really matter, but they glean that from my stop-motion poetry. Snuff poetry -- an idea long overdue.
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