Tag: Ralph Sneeden
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From The New Republic, a poem
An Azalea Blooms in the Murderer’s Yard Ralph Sneeden, The New Republic Published: Wednesday, April 23, 2008 And shirtless boys fire rocks with rackets from the lawn next door. Ping and twang, then sounds of invisible tunnels torn through the canopy of indifferent oaks. Perhaps it was them I saw, the scoundrels, casting their lures…