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Long Dark Navel

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With the weight of a thousand afternoons
chasing fleas around the cypress knees.
The old hound dog slept with one eye open,
dreaming of things that no longer walked the 
earth. A slow, muddy push of the waters…
long dark navel of the Mississippi, from the
neck of the bayou, as if RC Cola. Across the
swampy kudzu, clinging to the warts of the
river. Listening to Deliverance on the banjo.

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