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All Fur and Bones

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I wonder how much time she has left. I think she’s seventeen. I don’t know for sure because she was already grown when I got her from the pound, just before Christmas, years ago this was --back when I had hair and hope.

Christ walks the streets of Venice

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Christ walks the streets of Venice,/has long since become a regular . . .

Kramer vs. Kramer

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Kramer wraps himself around Kramer’s legs, from behind, then lifts him and tips him up and over and down, per their rehearsed routine.

Something for you

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Bearing the smell of paper on her fingertips. Ink in her hair.

Purple Lady, Lavender Afternoon

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—Pretty tulips, said the woman.

A Life of My Own- 2

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He wanted me to learn the business, to become the son he always wanted but never had. I eagerly complied.

404

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By the thousands youngsters swarmed into the streets shuffling aimlessly, many mumbling to themselves, heads bowed as their eyes stared fixedly at the plastic devices in their hands.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 1

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Before he was Francesco Martinelli

Refugees

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Four in the morning. I was awake because I'm always awake. There were little fog-halos around the streetlights.

And We Sell Apples 1977

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I hear the car door slam. Steve, about to duck daddy-duty: Just gonna take a run to the Quickway. "Rudy," I say, "go get in the car. Tell Papo I said Wait."

Casual

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Slip me in Between the cracks in your schedule Between the sheets of your bed Between your memories and your fears Between your eyes and the moon where I'll twinkle at you Slip me in somewhere, I won't disturb you Won't make you want to push me away Let…

Drunk Sonnet (for Meg Tuite)

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perjured like a fickle impulse

I’m Sure They’ll Have an App for That

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Already they’re taking away my books, supplanting them with Kindles and Nooks.

In Portland, Where It Rains

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So many opportunities for mud can be found in these hills,

Slaloming the Siphoners

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Hipster-neutral dressed simulacra-person offers a glance and a wave, sudden as a ping-pong serve, designed to crowd your space and "pal" you but I dodge it — I'm practiced at this.

Root in a Bottle

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He had expected more -- at least his grandfather's classic Packard touring car.

Zhou Yu’s Train

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Are we like a poem, a short hand of words curtained together, evoking a mood, but in the end, impenetrable? We follow the clues to our lover's heart and what we find isn't him at all but ourselves. We fill every part of his life, every part of his past and even become…

Rams, NFL's Smartest Team, Forget to Make Playoffs

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“I was looking for the review of the Alvin Ailey dance company when I noticed something in the sports pages,” says the 300-pound center. “All of a sudden it hit me–I should have been playing football."

221B Baker Street, London; 1:37 a.m.

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He lays his piping accoutrement on the bedside table, removes his cap, brocaded jacket, boots and slacks. Holmes brushes gently, the back of his hand across the confused face of Watson— their…

So Different Now

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She’s right there in Thirsty’s. In her usual spot. Drinking her usual drink. Yuengling on tap. One after another. And he’s there too. Behind the bar. Pouring drinks. One after another. Sometimes they speak. But mostly she orders. He pours. And

Doctor, My Eyes

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...it was just my heart stnging through my eyes...

Flaming Beauty

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Okay, it was a long shot but who in that room wasn’t desperate to shift that shit? All our jobs depended on it.

Letters from the Aslyum (2)

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Leo, leo, leo, leo, the word itself imprinted on my brain, carved with a pearl handled blade into my cerebral cortex, into the medulla, burrowed deep into my dreams, I miss your kissing.

Tales from the Friend Zone

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The blade was wielded by a spunky brunette with a German accent and a laugh that made me weak at the knees.

The Soft, Cool Blanket of Night

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wrap me in the soft, cool blanket of night. waning,the moon peers down at melike the heavy-lidded eye of some cyclops. and if I be lost like poor Odysseus,cloak me in the soft, warm wool of night. and if my eyes fail me like old Tiresias,stitch the cloth with…

Death Masking Love

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She brought the ends of her fingers to her mouth and moistened them in her warm saliva. The whorls of her prints glistened in the harsh light of the room, but it wasn't her own outlines she was interested in raising. His hand lay outstretched in his…

Zumba, Meet Depression

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The decision is made. I am going to a Zumba class. What better way to achieve behavior modification than to leave my TV and fuzzy bear slippers behind for some hot Latin aerobics in a strip-mall? I try to pull my hair into a ponytail that will make the two inches of…

The Great Bank Run of 1912

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She bought her first gerbil at the age of nine. She wondered if he would die from endless logrolling. When he died from natural causes, she refused to bury him and kept a distance from the first boy who kissed her--Thomas J. Hobbit. The next year a twister swept…

The Mosaic Thief

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Bit by bit I was traveling away, we thought. Maybe I’d join myself, all together, in Toronto. Or in an industrial coffee can. Or in the closet. “Check the closet,” I pointed.

Girl Friends

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Two women grab a table near a window in a coffee shop. Outside, the sky is the color of dulled aluminum. It is early spring and pollen assaults the air with a tint of sulfur.