VI. The irony inherent is a prose piece from yours truly was found in his pocket, so the doll had kept a fragment of me close by. The camp friend - "Old Eagle Eye" - picked up the doll and took it back home. I wrote a letter immediately after I hung up the phone knowing quite well that O.E.E. would simply not understand that my disappearing reappearing poet/doll responded only to my immediate voice or written word and the odds that O.E.E. should locate my companion along the stick black tar and yellow dividing reflective tape of I-90, stretched far and wide as conflicting air currents in Western Wind tornadoes.
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