A poem by Michael Stewart
— S —
S is more or less what C would be
When c is not in Church
Or not being k.
Ever since its sinuosity
Slithered through the garden,
Man has leaned to speak
In conspiratorial whispers.
Editor’s note: Once again we call for Dr. Stewart to come forward. We are certain there are fascinating stories attached to his history since last we saw him circa 1976.
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