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Poem: “Daedalus”
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Letters from Readers
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My Liberal Arts Education in Prison
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One Parish One Prisoner
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What’s a Repair Café?
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Analog Hero
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The Sacred Sounds of Hildegard of Bingen
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Covering the Cover: Repair
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Could I Do That?
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Who Can Repair the World?
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Rebuilding Notre-Dame Cathedral
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Why Serve?
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In Praise of Repair Culture
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Just Your Handyman
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To Mend a Farm
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The Home You Carry with You
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Heaven Meets Earth
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Portraits of Survival
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Hunger
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Three Pillars of Education
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The Joy of Mending Jeans
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Zero Episcopalians
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Making Art to Mend Culture
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Repairing Relationships
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Not Everything Can Be Fixed
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Architecture for Humans
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Yielding to God
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Salvaging Beauty from the Ruins
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On Motherhood and Climate Change
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An Octopus, a Septuagenarian, and a Millennial
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Ifs Eternally
Poem: “Andy Mayhew, Author of the Sonnets of Shakespeare”
Love and love sonnet, both botched.
By Amit Majmudar
December 5, 2023
He tried to do it right. ABAB.
Every time, though, he had to give up, foiled
By headstrong form, the rhyme scheme and the beat
He failed to marry. How a marriage failed,
He knew too well, two lives jarred askew, refusing
To line up. Love and love sonnet, both botched.
Nothing to show for all his obsessive fussing.
Better just to memorize Shakespeare’s batch.
Alzheimer’s turned his scars to cuts in water
But left him with those lines that rhymed and scanned,
And in his nursing home, he showed his daughter
The Sonnets forming in his sloping hand,
The clinching couplets that would make him famous,
Forgotten so completely they became his.
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