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Peace, Baby, Is A Hard Sell (circa 1962)

Story (circa 1962)

Excerpt

Peace, Baby, Is A Hard Sell

Dear John Bryan: Look, on the war-thing, I can give you nothing in poem form since I just wrote something about how I ducked the shells (WW2) for another magazine and rolled off with banana leaf and used car oil off a duck's back, and now, after this, my pecker hangs limp. If you keep poeming about the same thing and in the same way, you become the same thing and the same way, which is—nothing. I can bullshit you a little about the subject, though...

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