2027 15 8
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If This Were Baltimore East A spray of change in the lilies and loose rubber, she pulled close to the wall. She smiled at the trucks, her handful of loot. Hallelujah, he said, converting. West Like 4 miles of cakes, they counted…
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1787 15 12
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and dreamed itself infinite.
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1820 15 14
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I wrote this during a poetry workshop at the Atlantic Center for the Arts with Carolyn Forché. January, 2015. So much more has happened since that stunning week.
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1783 15 9
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fat furry marmots who play hide and seek
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2324 15 5
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Quiet. You sit quiet as a mouse in the corner. Push a little doll around and hum la-la-la so they forget you’re there while they have the cocktail hour.
That’s how you find out they’re killing Grandma.
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1924 15 11
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There was nothing to do but dream ourselves forward. Nothing to do but not die.
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1261 15 12
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Will it//
scare us shitless when we can finally/
draw ourselves a likeness of it?
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1467 15 9
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Conjure calamity and calamity comes.
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1734 15 11
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In the Ardennes for the the first time...
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1720 15 5
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"when I say bag, what I mean to say is…"
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1084 15 5
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The trio stuffed their grilling equipment in a battered van and left for Dixieland Speedway at 4:30 am.
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2078 15 3
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He stopped the shower and recounted his life, now Kin-less and plain.
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2348 15 7
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“Black is up, red is down,” I said, knowing he turned to pleasant memories of lawbreaking when he felt discouraged. I asked him to meet me for coffee. He said he hadn’t bought a coffee in a year.
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1775 15 12
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You should have
marked that territory like a conquistador,
mounted him like an equestrian, left no
what-ifs in your wake.
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1825 15 14
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I bear the wrong gin. Your air conditioner runs cold. It is either frigid or off, the gauge broken. You are not too old to overlook these things. You can't be choosy, but you will never beg. Just an occasional choice as you settle into this…
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2234 15 7
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On Monday I cook coq au vin. Fatty yellow skin detached and floating in the sauce.
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1587 15 7
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Mark Reep is a faded Polaroid oracle taped to the only unbroken window of an abandoned house in Ithaca NY.
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1231 15 11
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When the compost thaws the past oozes out into the present....
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3302 15 9
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“How’s the Pinto running?” Sean says. It’s been awhile. Maybe Darcy won’t remember him.
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1486 15 11
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When Lois finally found him down there, Johnny was wedged between a large rock and the trunk of an old, long since fallen, cottonwood tree. She said as she got to him, she heard his gurgling breath, fighting fiercely to stay alive. When she saw the deep, gathering, red…
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1788 15 10
|
He died a printer finding late/
after so much selling himself selling/
a craft that pleased and paid enough
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1821 15 12
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You anchor the real
You make love to the true
I am bound to you in consecration
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2689 15 12
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Larry lies on top of her, he kisses her, his lips, she thinks, are dry, but she prefers dry to wet because overly wet in the mouth is never a good thing.
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733 15 17
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This is the best excerpt you'll ever read.
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2919 15 8
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The goddamn artist. This was her fourth inquiry, first visit. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned against the cold porcelain.
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2673 15 9
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Listen to me, at the end of all things, and I will tell you her story.
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1312 15 8
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I'm standing on a toilet, trapped behind a stall. Watching Father U mop up the blood.
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3010 15 6
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I had told myself that I would not cry. That I would hold on to my anger so tightly, there would be no space for pity.
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2173 15 11
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When we're near, there is a black cloud, such as Sylvia Plath described in her unabridged journal, that semi-appeared in her rental cottage where she and Ted Hughes lived in Cornwall. The cloud filled the center of the room where she sat alone.
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1682 15 6
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Call it a spell or a prayer or a ritual; it worked.
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