OF USAGE AND MISUSAGEA Poem by Glen Fitch
I have his plyers, hack saw, ruler, sledge, the tools my father taught me to maintain and which to pick to cinch, or torque, or plane. and when to grab a chisel for a wedge I have her grater, pitter, rolling pin, utensils mother used for every need, She said "You picked the right one, then proceed. to whisk, or slice, or chop, or strain, or skin." They were so skilled. Each gesture was concise. They often said "You can't..." How I'd resent it, chided "hasty, lazy, ignorant." I learned to spot the cheap, the imprecise. Just so you can't rely on what you've heard. You have to think and pick the proper word. © 2008 Glen FitchFeatured Review
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4 Reviews Added on August 15, 2008 Last Updated on August 29, 2008 AuthorGlen FitchMonterey, CAAboutA word is a wager in thought. Every one I pick is a bet that it will mean to you what it means to me. That is at least today, relevant to my race, class, gender and community. The fine print in my poe.. more..Writing
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