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I have waited all year long
to name this the penultimate day
of the year for who (not I) can 
resist that marvelous word 
given the chance to use it 
since to be spoken written 
down typed used in a phrase 
is the be-all end-all of a word 
itself otherwise lying flat
on some dictionary page, heart
thrumming in anticipation
someday to be thoughtfully 
placed into a sentence not to mention
a poem! and murmuring with profound
incredulity Look!  Oh my just look
where I am! and to know in its 
bones it is absolutely the most perfect 
word for that particular sentence.
Oh the pure joy!  
But imagine if you will
the heartless glib erasing 
the painful scratching through or
worst of injuries the absolute
cold horror of the delete key backing
over removing one letter at a time
leaving the tiny word pen and finally
nothing at all as some other 
clearly inferior word is substituted
when everyone knows there is no 
other single word that adequately
fills the shoes of penultimate.

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