Laughter erupts over the swath of white chairs dotting the lawn at Harman’s Herb Farm. What the Studio Audience does not know is that in another minute they will be crying. (What the wedding photographer does not know is that the hanky they snatched from the strategically-placed-hanky-basket at the greeting line will not, after all, be exclusively used for polishing their lens.)
Bet you’ve never seen a slam poetry reading at a wedding. Bet you’ve never seen several. But that’s just the way Truj and Brian roll.
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