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shield their delicate southern skin from the sun as they walked up to our picket line to spit in our faces.

I’m sure I’ll write again soon. Your Alison

Green garnet is gone from the ring, though the gold band remains on my finger. Stone must have fallen somewhere between the theater and the no.11 bus stop


I saw a notice that the aged poet Jane Mayhall whom you interviewed for your book Love In The ­Second Act passed away. Glad you got to interview her. Don’t laugh, but when it comes to the subjects who find themselves in your books, I can’t help but think of you as Mother Twitchett. As in:

Old Mother Twitchett had but one eye, And a long tail which she let fly, And every time she went through a gap, A bit of her tail was left in the trap. In other words, you’re the needle, and your subjects are the thread. And, in that spirit, if you’re ­Mother Twitchett, I’m Simple Simon.

Found an interesting new story for you to thread. Lolek Lau, an eight-year-old Jew, was in the same Buchenwald barracks as Feodor Mikhailichenko,


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