Double canasta was the game. The cards were so flimsy, we powdered them before every marathon. Sweet tea and cigarettes fueled our competition. At some point, mother and aunt fixed supper for all. Males occasionally subbed but they were placeholders for the female energy that ruled and they knew it. I learned unimaginable lessons at that card table.
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pluff mud poet
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supporting my art just gets easier. This is my vocation, my hobby, my mistress. I love what I do, and I hope you do, too.
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