Opinion

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Your mailman's diary: I called him Glovebox

I met Gregg for the first time as I walking down his street. Orchard Grove is a pretty little street in my town, and when I glanced sideways one day I see this dude polishing his Harley; rag in one hand and a can of beer in the other.

Standing up: a poem for the picket lines

This poem was inspired by the just-concluded United Steelworkers convention.

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A little poem ponders "birthers"

Who Knows? Take the tea party ranters: instead of reasoning, they shout. Perhaps they're from outer space; they certainly are spaced out.

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Poem of the week: Nizar Qabbani’s “The Old World is Dead”

This unnamed verse, written in 1970, seems as if it could have been written yesterday in half a dozen nations - and in some U.S. states as well.