Forum / Frederick Barthelme

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    Ann Bogle
    Feb 01, 02:17am

    Everywhere I look, a blurb by Frederick Barthelme. That's where I am looking. His face is everywhere.

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    Ann Bogle
    Feb 14, 05:20am

    All right, Rick B., what is writing? You appear in your photo to be more handsome than your first brother—question mark? Cock. Exclamation! prick. Eric deserves a job in this, our/his, native country, America. Next I'll suggest he go home to Oakland. J. Otis Powell lives in America—harps MISCEGENATION to the vasectomized mad-white-man, living here, west of Milwaukee. Northern Black Interpreter of Dakota Sioux. Haiti was better, where one drop counted as white in court. Hockey was my sport, clearly enthusiastically. I ERUPTED IN THE STANDS, trailing my father's walking lesson—my dad conducted me north, hand-in-hand, along Williston Road to the Ice Arena behind City Hall, and I rose, during the game, most unexpectedly, with all-out alarum, in favor of my future high school team. Not a spirit or soul could have predicted it. Not even John Lennon's daughter. Near seeing, the hockey cheerleader jump-split it.

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