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Searching for Last Lines

Some poetry shares a kinship with flash fiction, possessing a narrative arc. A poem I’ve submitted unsuccessfully a few times already is a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. I’m happy enough, provisionally, with the beginning and the middle. But I’m having trouble with the end, and I suspect the editors of the journals that rejected the piece shared my dissatisfaction with the last lines, not in substance, but as poetry. Today, I returned to the piece, experimenting with revisions. I suppose I’ve made some progress, but the lines still leave too much to be desired. I’ll have another go tomorrow.

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