What the Three-Legged Dog Will Tell You if You Care to Ask It

Find the bullet-mauled mailbox, the books pulled from a bonfire, the heartstrong hero circling the drain of the last hoorah, the woman with a supernova smile, the uncrying man living in a spilled-milk mansion. Find the heads-up penny, the fulcrum between dishonor and dignity, the record playing backward, the three-legged dog running forward, the politician with the alphabet tattooed on her tongue who knows how to use it. Find them all, and they’ll say: “I don’t know what kinda sex some people are having these days, but it sure seems like a helluva lotta folks are suffering from sexually transmitted ignorance.”

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