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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.

Contagious Blinking

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He pulls on his wispy goatee and shifts his weight a few times from one foot to the other. That doesn’t help. It rarely does, to be honest.

Roanne's Dream

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Roanne banged the chiva, turned tricks, and ran out of road.

Fall

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The rustling of the dry leaves when he moved even slightly sounded like thunder to him, and he was sure if any of the other kids from the neighborhood got too close, it was the noise that would end up giving him away.

Sidereal

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"...they ran shirtless like pagans under southern stars."

Sideburns

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. . . quit being so rigid, open up to the pasta.

Visitation Hour

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She watches too much VH1 for a five-year-old.

Disparity

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sacred ground bleached with the salt of bitter tears

When I Last Saw Gina

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Regina Dawn "Gina" Edwards, 49, passed away June 2, 2006. R.I.P. "Ridge Woman"

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.

Marriage, California Style

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Out the window we could see the parking lot and, across the street, the Bijou Moonlight Laundromat.

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…

MAO

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She was as distant as Mao, someone I never met, but whom everyone carried in their eyes,

Blank Future

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I might as well just keep driving. Past my exit. Beyond my job. Just drive. Until the tank runs out of gas. A blank future is better than this bleak one.

Zombies Calling

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The zombie apocalypse was long foretold as a rather exciting bit of bother involving shotguns and chainsaws, but the reality of it is rather depressingly boring.

Spades

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all / the secret letters/ ever dreamed up

A New Kind of Madness

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in my youth I was enamored of the moon—that is to say, lunacyI applauded the bizarre in natureI appropriated the gratuitous from dreamsI drank brashness and frenzy from bookswhat mad things I did!(throwing a bucket of water on the naked couple in the bed)what…

Forgive Me Mamma

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His footing unsure and his clothes covered in vomit, he grabs the railing and stumbles up the three steps. He pulls off his shirt, finds a cleaner area on the puke-covered garment, wipes sweat off his forehead, dripping wet from the humid, stormy night, a

Carnal Knowledge

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He says he’ll have a Bud, too. The woman taps her pencil on her pad, looks at the kid and says, “When?”

Tuning Pegs

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Her face had that strange preserved quality Maybelle saw in many aging Boomer women — like an old toy never removed from its packaging.

77 Words About Nothing (Triad)

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My mind has started to finish thoughts at 77 Words. These are just a few.

Red Hot Hyperbole

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She came from the land of rumpled sheets. She was the very definition of sex. She was the breeze through the wind chimes of his heart. One might say that she actually invented the orgasm. All mirages are this way. Perfect until they disappear. They

Madi's Love

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The depth of her love for Briana could only be heard on the 80’s ballads station fumbling from the stereo in Madi’s car, awkward, just like her smile.

Portrait of the poet as midwife

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Some poems slip out easily Thick and solid Well-oiled and fully formed

A Sacrifice For God And Man

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The words of prophets only serve to demonstrate that ‘unreliable narrative’ can often result in poor literature; unfortunately, poor literature can attract a very large following.

Truman Compote

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When it rains, I can really think.

The Bike Messenger on Lexington Avenue

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The Bike Messenger on Lexington Avenue Comes to rest taking a moment in the falling rain slowly massaging the veins at the top of his bald head Cracking his neck while the yellow cabs start honking behind him Unwilling to mov

Beds

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Called in sick at work for a week straight when I first met Tony.

THERE IS AN I.V. OF THE TIMES I HAVE THOUGHT, "I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT" AND IT IS SWELLING MY VEINS

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god bless my shapeless head. we are good at becoming older. i feel incredibly negative all the time.

Fear in a Handful of Dust / National Poetry Month 2015 30 Poems

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Fear in a Handful of Dust