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,&. he looked down down into the depths of his poetry well but could see nothing but still hopefully he lowered his bucket it disappeared into inky darkness furthest recesses before a plash could be heard when later he wound it up he was saddened only to find a few bent commas and a cracked full stop but then heartened underneath in the grimy silt there lay glittering a pure shining burnished gold ampersand! ,&. pmcmanus q365 for Peter Ciccariello