At long last, found in the dry, crunchy grass of a California back yard, is a book of lost Maya Angelou poems. Judging from the quality of verse, it was lost intentionally, in hopes of being chewed to fine confetti by Paul Rugg's LawnBoy and scattered to the Santa Anna winds, never to be found again. The Poem Into Nothing made me laugh, so that is why I chose to link to it.
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