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Contents Page: July, 2010, vol 6 no 2

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Bob Lucky

The Skin Off My Nose

no shade to be had
a bee crawls down the neck
of my Coke bottle

The sun reflects off the surface of the public pool wherever it can find space between splashing bodies. Everyone seems to be talking at once, talking about me, the new kid in town, shouting at me, urging me to jump in. A dancer in search of a tune, I prance over the blistering concrete toward the edge, dive head first into the shallow end.

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