>From the collection, "100 Pieces for the Left Hand", by J. Robert Lennon


A local poet of considerable national fame completed a new collection
of poems that had, due to a painful and scandalous series of personal
problems, been delayed in editing and publication for some years. When
the revisions were finally finished, the poet typed up a clean copy of
the manuscript and got into his car to bring it to the copy shop for
reproduction.

On the way, however, the poet was pulled over for running a red light
and was subsequently found to be drunk. Due to a new and unforgiving
drunk-driving law in our state, his car was taken from his possession
and his licence revoked.

Upon regaining sobriety, the poet realized that his poetry manuscript
was still in the car and asked the police to return it to him. The
police, however, maintained that the contents of the car no longer
belonged to him, and refused. Their refusal resulted in a protracted
legal battle, during which our beloved poet died, leaving uncertain
the fate of the manuscript.

But the poet's publisher, eager to issue a posthumous volume, struck a
bargain with the police department: if someone at the station would
read the finished poems over the phone, an editor could transcribe
them and issue them in book form without the manuscript changing
hands. After all, the publisher argued, even if the manuscript legally
belonged to the city, its contents did not, as they were devised
outside the poet's car. The police agreed to this scheme, the phone
recitation took place, and the book was issued to great acclaim,
assuring the poet a place in the literary canon that he had not
enjoyed in life.

Eventually, however, the poet's estate won its legal battle against
the city, and the original manuscript was recovered. All were shocked
to learn that it bore little resemblance to the published book.

It was not long before a city policeman confessed to having improvised
much of the manuscript during its telephone transcription. His only
explanation was that he saw room for improvement and could not resist
making a few changes here and there. Almost immediately, the policeman
was asked to leave the force, and the acclaimed book was completely
discredited. The true manuscript was published in its entirety, to
tepid reviews.

The policeman has continued to write poetry. Most agree that it is
excellent, but few will publish the work of someone known to be so
dishonest.


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