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	<title>The Blue Pencil Online &#187; Kevin Hong</title>
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	<link>http://www.thebluepencil.net</link>
	<description>Writing &#38; Publishing at Walnut Hill</description>
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			<item>
		<title>Enrichment, Engagement</title>
		<link>http://www.thebluepencil.net/draft-board/sword/</link>
		<comments>http://www.thebluepencil.net/draft-board/sword/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 22 Apr 2010 01:16:33 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Draft Board (Archive Listing)]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Kevin Hong]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[The Draft Board]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.thebluepencil.net/?p=5640</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[[1]
Achilles  to Patroclus

Should
Have
Been
Me,
Washed
Out
To
Sea.
You’ve
Left
Ca-
Tas-
Tro-
Phe.
[2]
Achilles  to Patroclus

Should
Have
Been
Me,
Washed
Out
To
Sea.
My
Sword&#8217;s
Ca-
Tas-
Tro-
Phe.

I made the change from “You’ve / Left” to “My / Sword’s” in this skinny sonnet in an attempt to enrich the poem, to pack as much as I could into the fourteen syllables I allowed myself. “You’ve / Left” is implied in the poem’s title, “Achilles to Patroclus,” [...]]]></description>
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		<item>
		<title>Interpretations of Infinities</title>
		<link>http://www.thebluepencil.net/a-good-read/infinities/</link>
		<comments>http://www.thebluepencil.net/a-good-read/infinities/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 15 Jan 2010 20:53:34 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[A Good Read]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[A Good Read (Archive Listing)]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Kevin Hong]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[.
Crepuscule
An elephant in its bathtub
and the three children sleeping
off the strange, strange tale
the tale of the sun sinking 
—Philippe Soupault (1897–1990)


.
Starry Night
In the late Nineteenth century
one is out painting landscapes
with spiralling sky
and helicopter lights approaching.

—Les Murray (1938– )
What brevity!  Can four lines of verse capture the essence of abstract things?  Soupault’s “Crepuscule” (my own translation, [...]]]></description>
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		<item>
		<title>&#8220;The Bucket Rider&#8221; [Kafka]</title>
		<link>http://www.thebluepencil.net/out-loud/the-bucket-rider/</link>
		<comments>http://www.thebluepencil.net/out-loud/the-bucket-rider/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 22 Feb 2009 13:47:19 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Kevin Hong]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Out Loud (Archive Listing)!]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Out Loud!]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;The Bucket Rider,&#8221; by Franz Kafka.
Translated by Edwin Muir. 
Read by Kevin Hong.
]]></description>
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		<item>
		<title>Signs</title>
		<link>http://www.thebluepencil.net/archive/verse/signs/</link>
		<comments>http://www.thebluepencil.net/archive/verse/signs/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 04 Feb 2009 20:21:02 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Kevin Hong]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Verse]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.thebluepencil.net/?p=630</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Hear Kevin Hong read this poem
Curious about the future,
I hid behind a sign
And spied on an old man
Seated on stone steps.
Between two frittered fingers
His cigarette breathed ghosts.
Ash curled into itself.
It fell like the final hand.
It cast itself, then settled
In no clear configuration,
But he traced the shapes, the muscle
of the trembling, graying span
Like I trace constellations,
A [...]]]></description>
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