Lines
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12 Lines We’re heading for The Poor House! my mother worried. My father favored The Funny Farm as our destination. Phrases from the 1930s, little boxes stuffed with anxieties. Last night, following a TV update on our ongoing hunt for the Unicorn, and the fortunes of the corporate few, I watched half the population of a Southern town standing in line for food to feed their kids. Good Christ! Are we adding rooms to The Poor House? What are we sowing on The Funny Farm? ...
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