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Y’all. I’m so happy, but humbled. My short story written as an Ode — yes, like good old John Keats’ “to the [no duh oblivious] Nightingale,”
and flashing the ludicras cool of blue-haired old lady mojo ‘I don’t give a ffffing ffff’ —
just came out in OyeDrum, this dope literary magazine.
Love you Amarantha and Oye Drum. And not just obsequiously.
Though isn’t all love just a little . . . .