Saturday, March 04, 2006


Whitling is one of the most interesting pass times I have ever seen. Old men used to sit in front of the court house back home on this old plank bench, and they would whittle. For those of you who don't know what whittling truly is, quite simply, it is taking your pocket knife and a stick and shaving little pieces off of it, or make a flute, or even carve a small animal while you are discussing with your friends the past, the future, as well as solving the world's problem. Most interesting it is.

Well, I am going to whittle my book of poetry down to 60 poems so I can submit it some where. It makes me feel odd. Every poem in that collection means something to me - of course it does! I wrote the thing! Still, how am I going to choose from that collection!?!

Should it just be my favorites? Should it be ones that are directly pertaining to what happened and thus let it explain itself that way? Am I going to have to order them differently?

It really is a lot to think about.

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