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      December 26, 2024NASCARMike White

      Not rolling in liquid fire
      or pulled apart by physics.
      Not between commercials.
      But the way an old dog
      half-blind
      noses around and around
      some quiet
      apple-scented
      chosen ground.

      from #32 - Winter 2009

      Mike White

      “I’ll often begin writing a poem on a subject about which I know little or nothing. This is the ‘mucking around’ phase, and sometimes (usually) the poem founders quickly. But at other times, a poem about, say, rodeo clowns, will take a sudden and unexpected turn for the personal, and then I know I have the bull by the horns.”