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Papa NovemberCrystal CurryThe virgins guard the emergency glass. Opal is dying in her basement house. The numbers station croons to the spies: papa november, papa november. Opal: "alea iacta est." The fate of the empire rests on this. Gardenia, Delphinium, Gentian, Mum save their hula for some hangers-on. Crystal Curry Read Bio Author Discusses Poems |
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