Alphabetical stories

Blueprint for a tale

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Remove with care, then slowly lay the string, wide well-soaked end at left-hand edge, to start, and allow to curve, to bend, to almost loop and wind its way at rest across the mottled, patterned green

Blues Machine

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Rockin' Joe Heath stumbled into the stairwell in nothing but a black Zildjian t-shirt, shushing himself, trying to see right, pounding head. He recalled the old lily pattern of the wall­paper and something about the tattered edges…

Blues Repeat

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don't look at me honey, I fell on the table, my hair is on fire, my heart is unstable

Blurbmonger

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Rick is short, red-haired and looks like his head has been plopped directly onto his torso. Francine is six foot two, likes guys her height and prefers some of their height to consist of neck.

Boardroom Bullshit

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Push the envelope

boardwalk

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coast to coast

Boats for Rent (Thinking About You)

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We're killing off the elephants. We're killing off the tigers. We're killing off monarch butterflies. We're wrecking the coral reefs. Big sad gorillas don't feel at home in their own homes. And all instead of learning to live in some…

Bob Dylan, Republican Party Animal

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That’s right–Bob Dylan, ne Robert Allen Zimmerman–will be riding shotgun with me as we head north to fight the good fight against the Democratic Party’s war on women.

Bob the Builder

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The concrete guy’s truck is parked in front of your house. There’s nothing for him to be doing there except your wife.

Boba Fett Blues

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So you want to know my earliest realization that I was just another boob consumer? Trace it back to my Star Wars Action figure days. Fish out the collapsible C3PO from a war-torn pile of crummy Jawas and Storm Troopers, no they're all out of Snaggletooth

Bobby Fischer in Budapest

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Bobby Fischer hates anyone using his name. Movies, books, stories, news articles, games. Kasparov, Spassky, even Deep Blue—he cursed them for ever having thought of his name. Whoever's thinking my name right now—burn in hell!

Bodies Approaching Rest

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He hates this body no less now/ than he did at 14 for its pudginess/ and the hair that can’t conform

BODY OF CHRIST, Chapter One

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The sound wasn’t coming from her dream, it was coming from inside the house. Somewhere outside her bedroom the noise was gaining power. Each pitch climbed higher with the urgency of a smoke alarm. With hands over ears and a hazy brain she got up from her

Body to go

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I’m squatting naked over the hand mirror, feet cold on the terrazzo floor, looking at my winking arsehole.

Bog Crossing

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Written within five minutes, being a parody of the artless vacuity of observational 'poetry'(By Tedward Weeney and Seamus Spews) The large wind in the treetop tells the blackbird its own voice. The yellow grainyard resounds to the clodding of my farmer's…

Bogart Generations

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Great Uncle did stunts in silents and shot a man in a cowboy one-reeler, then vanished to the hills like Roy Earle in High Sierra.

Bogdan

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He was a tenth grade / messiah, famous for acts of attrition.

Bohemian eyes

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I know I was hungry. I was hungry for what you had to offer, your fast cars, your dad’s ski boat, your beautiful mouth and its pretty words, your Bohemian eyes and yes, for the joy you could give me between the legs. But I was unprepared for the lif

Bohemian Grove

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“Why, that's the faggotiest thing I've ever heard of!” Richard M. Nixon actually said. But how could he say that? Henry went there. …

Boil

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Boil (n.)––1. Pus-filled pustule inflammation of the skin, usually painful. 2. Slang boiled pus, bucket of (n. phrase)“Your asshole brain is a bucket of boiled pus.” (see also pus, SCOTTISH derogatory term for face.

Boise Poetry Slam

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The boy buckled in and told his mom, “No mommy, I can do it myself”

BOLO: Alfred Chester's Wig

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It was there, and then it wasn’t, the victim of a magician or a swooping seabird.

BOLT-TOGETHER

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I will watch your teeth measure the highway all the way home.

Bomba

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The man is middle-aged, although not rich, and the girl, aside from being very young, is not exceptionally pretty. But she has recently shed twenty pounds for the express purpose of looking fabulous on…

Bon Bons

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love notes yellowed through the years

Bondage, to the rivers that bind

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Waft­ing wisps of fond­ness twin­kling in time with fairy lights point­ing out lawns in cities

Bone & Air

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Devoid of flesh and muscle, Composed of bone and air.

Bone Density

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Madame Fauve, / with a twisted braid, is dancing.

Bone Dust Disco

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He stands at the 53 bus stop, boy shadow dust-cloaked and fading, jangling her keys in his pocket, echoes of a journey cut short.

Boner

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What if blood engorging your penis could be the result of emotions other than sex and violence? Wouldn't it be nice if your dick could be used to express the lengths and depths of other feelings?