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A Thing Itís Not


He does deserve

What money bought:

A rural fling

Thatíll grow more rocks

Than native crops.

No lack of nerve,

Heíll post his plot

To say, "Itís mine,"

And hang a sign

That calls it a farm,

Because whatís the harm

In calling a thing

A thing itís not?


Robert Crawford



© 1999; originally printed in
The Larcom Review.   Reprinted
by permission of the author.

Background by
Ariel's Studio

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