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“People are staring at us,” Cat said softly into Marcel’s ear.
“We look like an interesting couple,” Marcel replied. “Of course people want to look at us.”
Cat nibbled on that thought for a while.
New York City is the kind of place where people ra
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look at the shape here / is it not pleasing to the eye?
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Know what you’ll become? You’ll become one of those guys who masturbates in any single occupancy restroom that locks.
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I got to see me the other day.
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I'm subconsciously a sucker for guys who are no good for my
self-esteem. Or waistline.
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Celia was born with another baby's head atop her head and everyone in the village thought her cursed. It was because Celia's mother had been too young to be intimate with a man, twelve only, and the man, important in the village,…
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SeesWe fell into this lake together and traced the clean soft lines straight back to ourselves, with a carefree laugh, ha ha ha-- an embarrassing ease. This small miracle does tend to put in orbit something high flying besides clouds into the sky inside of…
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the array of regularly spaced wavering human forms floating upright seems to extend endlessly in all directions.
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The Japanese sun, blood-red and vibrant, like a Cézanne apple, was setting far away in the distance over the snow-capped peak of Mt. Fuji. For a moment, the intensity of the light blinded him. He could not see the road ahead. His front bicycle wheel wobb
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“You're right by the mall, the cultural district, and just a few minutes from downtown,” the realtor smiled. “And it's on a bus line?” the wife asked. “Yes it…
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I linger and pretend that I’m not there,
you find me in the end but I’ll not dare
to speak the words I only know to write.
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Why was it so difficult to move / toward anything?
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I think I’ll get a tattoo. Not just any tattoo, one I’ll regret. I’ll catch people peering at it, trying to interpret the twists and swirls of the black ink on my fair skin.
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Life, like a kite string, is slipping out of
your hands
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The army was bulldozing grandmother's house.
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The light, oblique and waning, filters through butcher’s paper to reveal a body suspended in death but never decomposing.
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Try it with and without/
middle name or middle initial.//
Try different keywords.
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I am the ritual/
banalities of days numbered,/
numberless, and numb.
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Grasping for control over
social consciousness Because cigarettes are too deadly
and so is anorexia
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There is something preposterous /
about existing in a universe so vast: /
Such a big playground for such tiny children, /
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Doreen takes Butchie’s hand, steadies it in the can opener, counts “One-two-three”–and slams the chrome handle down.
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Recently I think I became someone else.
When the alarm clock rings in the morning, it sounds sharper than usual; getting up, my feet don't seem to quite touch the floor; looking into my bathroom mirror, my face seems to be melting, sliding, my eyes dri
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His ear is swathed by a large white bandage
that runs down under the chin. Dressed in a heavy dark
green coat, buttoned at the neck.
Streaks of orange relieve the darkness of the green.
Purple and black cap on his head.
Calmly smoking a pipe.
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Self-possession. He had it. In his arctic white t-shirt; blonde haired, broad shouldered, unburdened. “I will make you love me,” he had said, in a bar.
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Loving himself. Loved by no one. Loving no one.
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a few numbers/
and a handful of their operations,
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I wear my gun so it shows,
so everyone knows.
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I somehow ended up with my father's second wife's wedding ring. Although it could actually be his third wife's wedding ring.
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