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Three Line Lunch: Books of the Dead Poet

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 196

Books of the Dead Poet

On floor of Peditto’s study I kneel with Bivins’ books. Chris shows Elise photos
Of the huge poet’s last readings, his long white beard, cane propped against mike stand.
In my hands: “The Ruins,” old English poem he thundered out when first I met him.