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What about the goons? Those criminals thwarted and left for dead in every action movie for the past thirty years. I'm sure at least a dozen survived the slaughters. I'm sure at least one or two came out if it reformed. This one who quit working for Columbian drug smugglers…
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Why do men become explorers? he asked. Because they want to cannibalize the unknown; to leave the chemicals, the furniture (and, yes, the shrew) behind; to make their way hi ho into the brush, whose weeds and lianas remain empty of the exhortations of Jesus Christ, whose…
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One summer night, as I walked alone down the cracked sidewalk of Kentucky underneath a canopy of maples where the moonlight fell through branches and lit my path with uneven lines I wondered: where does the residue of lust and desire go when everything you want to…
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It starts on the Fallopian Speedway:
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When she told me to write itI did; I scratched out what I wanted to sayin quick print letters. Not all of it.I could never get it all out in an hour but thegeneral idea was definitely there. We had to finish it in the rain becausewe couldn't light the…
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109842
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Blankets were always her undoing.
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True story: T.S. Eliot introduced Virginia Woolf to new dance steps including the Grizzly Bear and the Chicken Strut.
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To rival the professor in his knowledge of various body parts is impossible ...
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When you finally got blood from the hard stick
You spotted the backflash of red
And said Thank God. The woman’s legs and arms
Were everywhere, and you were in the middle
Holding her down with one hand while wielding
A butterfly in the other. You stuc
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The doctor bargained with us enough but I kept saying “give it a thousand years and we'll think about it.” He seemed to mean well and be smart enough to not be feeding us snakes, but he wasn't a praying man and I couldn't see past that look he used to give my…
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I don’t know what to make of this new territory we have stumbled into neither by accident, it seems, or design. Is there a map to be found?
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Before the paint spikes Coney Island to the wind, I walk home through the strum of a shield, colder than the one he left behind. For the hour I sprawl along the sidewalk in her laugh, crater's shadows for Wonder Wheel, he is midnight sun in The Last Waltz. Where the glow…
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Rent yourself a decent place to live, one with a shower.
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Wow. I’m just going to say it/
That’s one ugly little girl you’ve/
Made for yourself. But now someone/
Will miss you when you’re dead.
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Write me a Will you laughing boy,
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I have to look closely to be sure But they are there Bold stickers on three sides of the truck's cab Porcine cartoons Cutely admonishing No fat chicks! I am enraged Who does this guy think he is? This contractor's helper who makes …
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you're landscape
under her flight path, brother
one dash in a dotted line
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It was Wednesday, the papers had a food section that day, so the gap-toothed news hawker at the mouth of Winter Street would yell out “Foozection! Foozection!”
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79244
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in moving cars i am small;
in moving cars i am invisible.
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138241
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I think theorems and hypotheses
but all that comes out is punching and smashing
frustrated hate flows where I'd prefer to know love.
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"Living is easy with eyes closed/misunderstanding all you see.'--John Lennon That's an ache that's always inside me. How you'd rathertreat people as if they don't matteras much as some nice sounding words in a song. Their voicesas less than an annoying wind? Because…
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In the land of Nebbia, the mistiest part of Etruria, it was the month of Agnosto, when anything can happen, and Melliflua was pondering what to do about the fauns.
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You will know the country for fences, for feces, for cows, or,
You will know the country for the smell of hay and manure blowing over the hills to you.
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This artist has a wonderful sense of line and color. Abstract is not my métier, but I appreciate the art behind this painting. It helps to copy it. You sleep with it for a time and, like a woman, you learn her passions and taboos.
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The world's anxious fire breathing mob still wants in, but they don't know what in the smoke they are looking for. They aren't really thinking in that intellectual direction. All these wonderful, friendly books you see do not hold the answer or…
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Once, during an argument, she had said, It’s like there’s another woman, except she doesn’t exist. Which sometimes it really did feel like, a betrayal, being thrown over for someone else. The muse.
She could have shot the muse.
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Why am I attracted to this girl?
She’s beautiful. Only five foot four, but still looks skyscraper tall thanks to those skinny greyhound legs of hers. She told me she used to dance, then giggled and said she hadn’t since she was five years old.
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That’s the way it went all day with me—didn’t get far, didn’t see much, just, with Mary, drank tea here and there. A fine day it was, too; not cloudy, not raining...
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