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Poem of the Month: November 2007
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| The Cure Lying around all day with some strange new deep blue weekend funk, I'm not really asleep when my sister calls to say she's just hung up from talking with Aunt Bertha who is 89 and ill but managing to take care of Uncle Frank who is completely bed ridden. Aunt Bert says it's snowing there in Arkansas, on Catfish Lane, and she hasn't been able to walk out to their mailbox. She's been suffering from a bad case of the mulleygrubs. The cure for the mulleygrubs, she tells my sister, is to get up and bake a cake. If that doesn't do it, put on a red dress. --Ginger Andrews (from Hurricane Sisters)
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The Poems of the Month are copyrighted in the names of the individual authors, and are reproduced here for educational and therapeutic purposes.
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© 2001-2006 Kathleen Adams. All rights reserved.
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