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		<title>N R Whyte | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/raewhyte7</link>
		<description>The original writings of author N R Whyte</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>untitled</title>
			<description>I am a sunflower.&amp;nbsp;I turn my yellow&amp;nbsp;and black face,&amp;nbsp;bruised, to the sun,&amp;nbsp;hoping its light will&amp;nbsp;heal me.&amp;nbsp;With my eyes closed&amp;nbsp;I can see my stamen,&amp;nbsp;veins in my eyelids,&amp;nbsp;bulbous&amp;nbsp;where they intersect.&amp;nbsp;The sun feeds me&amp;nbsp;and I, grateful,&amp;nbsp;pour m..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/raewhyte7/1473922/</link>
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			<title>Wherein my voice is lost</title>
			<description>I guess I've lost my voice toThe wind.&amp;nbsp;Though easterly blustersKept my mamaIn shambles&amp;nbsp;With tumble weeds,The northern winds willCarry my voice&amp;nbsp;To the place whereDawnBreaks on ice caps and&amp;nbsp;Buries fears beneathThe ages of sameness.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/raewhyte7/1451535/</link>
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			<title>A Highway.</title>
			<description>This is an attempt to mirror the style of Gertrude Stein. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/raewhyte7/1451154/</link>
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			<title>personality disorder</title>
			<description>there are some morningswhen I feel the weight of my hairpulling my head downwhen I can feel gravity&amp;nbsp;pulling down the subway when we cross thebridge between Castle Frank and Broadviewthere are some mornings&amp;nbsp;I don't think I can get out of bed&amp;nbsp;because the world is too realthe empty space..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/raewhyte7/1451142/</link>
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			<title>You're Always Passing Churches</title>
			<description>You're always passing churchespacing before kitchen islands andunder coffee spoons.Village churches offeronion justices.City churcheshipstersask forgiveness on music blogs.Childish ripples in pews,half shouts ;you're always passing churches.You're always on beacheswalking on un-boardwalks andeven on..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/raewhyte7/1451135/</link>
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			<title>Pour Tutoyer</title>
			<description>I don't normally write love poems - I think that becomes fairly obvious as this unfolds. But I do like writing poems that reveal something unexpected about both myself and the reader. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/raewhyte7/1451126/</link>
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			<title>Stopping by Women Owned by the Everyman</title>
			<description>This is an n+7 Oulipian version of Robert Frost's poem &quot;Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening&quot;. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/raewhyte7/1451122/</link>
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			<title>7 or 8 Things I Know About Him - A Stolen Biography</title>
			<description>This is a form created by Michael Ondaatje. As a project in my short fiction class, we used his outline to create our own.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/raewhyte7/1451118/</link>
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			<title>The Vanes of Foxes</title>
			<description>&quot;The Vanes of Foxes&quot; is a poetic experiment with the personal essay. This piece is highly allusory; it is riddled with references to pop culture, both contemporary and ancient.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/raewhyte7/1451102/</link>
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			<title>Protein Transfer</title>
			<description>&quot;Protein Transfer&quot; is a series of vignettes that demonstrate how and why I turned from an omnivore to a pescetarian. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/raewhyte7/1451096/</link>
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