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INGREDIENTS
--A messy divorce.
--A late spring night in Boston.
DIRECTIONS
1. First, let's agree to call them "Pahkah House Rolls," for the Pahkah House is a luxury Boston hotel. (We'll be returning to New York on the morning train.)
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"Your mother does sailors," the parrot screeched.
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Every Thursday, around 11 am, right after the cemetery where I work receives the daily shipment of cremated remains to be interred, a frail nonagenarian steps out of the driver's seat of his Lincoln Continental and walks, unassisted, up a flight of twenty granite steps,…
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I was not the first to hear the dog speak, though I was, I think, the first who thought to listen.
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“The wound is the place where the light enters you…”- JALAL AD-DIN RUMIFollowing my lithium poisoning by my doctor, I went into a delirium, a vortex of darkness of losing myself sucked into a swirling black hole of space, no language, no way to communicate,…
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He was a liability. I knew I had to ditch him.
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So where was I? On the curb, the stingy, gritty curb of existence, hard on the ass, as usual on the rim of it all, the ledge of success, well to tell the truth far from the ledge but about to fall off, floating on the circumference of meaning, riding a c
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he considers the swirl of galaxies/
with their black hole hearts,
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maybe a day in deep winter
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We are in search of free hor d’oeuvres, me and Jane – Jane from H.R., Jane who is exactly as plain as her name implies, Jane, who, for now anyway, for this company retreat, is my kindred spirit in broke-ass hangover land.
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...He steps back from the abyss,
inner eye envisioning the ink sip of a fountain pen,
the hard, hot brain frenzy that sends phrases marching
toward another bridge between oblivion and art.
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I packed food for a lifetime, clothes and boots, all the guns, and the audio of our poetry...
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“I don't think of all the misery but of the beauty that still remains.” Anne Frank I know. It's not quite the fun little story you had wanted to be hearing from me so soon after the last sorrowful one took your breath…
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He kissed her tits and thought of art
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Dear Erin,And people call ME a pussy. Fuck you,The Cunt
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The Gothic-filigreed gate creaks as a guard closes it behind the little girl in the ruffled dress. Standing there in the morning fog, on the sidewalk outside the reform school, she looks remarkably like Shirley Temple. Dimpled, chubby face. Pretty, party dress. Her…
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Through its branches we saw a couple. Teenagers, narrow and pale, two young birch trees, their roots twisted, submerged in the water.
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Andreas Cappelanus taught that the word / “love” comes from the word meaning / “to fish.”
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Conceptio culpa
Nasci pena
Labor vita
Necesse mori
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I'd rather slit my wrists with a Triscuit...
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Ed wants to watch the last half of the football game. His wife wants him to mow the lawn.
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...bush tail beside him his closest comfort next to the genes...
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Mama loves birds but is afraid to fly.
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Pholcidae...Daddy Long-Legs
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I turn my head. Time starts running.
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This morning I heard her downstairs trying to get away silently. I knew she would write a short goodbye note. I knew it would tell me her reason for leaving —she had to be free of my indifference. I dressed, finished my coffee, backed out of the driveway and went to…
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This year we have no need of spring!
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Words darken with smut and irony over time.
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