1824 1 1
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The elevator door opened, and Tom ("The Baffler") Frank found himself confronted by Jesu bar Joseph, who opined: "You're WORTHLESS!" and recommended: "Why dontcha PULL your PANTS down, and CUT your COCK off!"
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1823 2 1
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He’d been wishing for months that he’d bought a retro clothing store. He would have called it HARRY’S HOARY HOSERRY. He would have met a better class of women.
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1823 0 0
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—with spinster goddesses in the middle of things / circling looms.
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1823 11 8
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“Sometimes when I feel the urge to create, I don’t know whether to grab my paints, my camera, my guitar or my pen.”
“You could have sex,” her friend, sitting in the desk next to hers, joked.
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1823 12 12
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Your soap on the shelf in the shower
melts with my every hair wash
and I'll miss it the way I should have missed you.
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1823 12 11
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Maybe, after years of writing poems like letters, he began to notice that no one ever wrote him back.
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1823 12 12
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Momma called them Vaughens, "a outfit," and said, "they shoulda throwed the book at that Darla Jean."
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1823 2 2
|
The rain fell from the roof. It fell from my voice and and my eyes. Toshiro's Kukichiro stomped gutshot through the mud with his katana. Young and beautiful, Mifumi died there on the screen though he doesn't really die for fifty or more years, they think from something…
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1823 0 0
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Incredibly he began to picture in his mind a scene not related at all to his frenzied search but of a huge plate of apple pie a la mode with the vanilla ice cream melting in streams like cool lava down the side of the pie and off of the plate.
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1823 6 2
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They stood at the intersection waiting for the light to change so they could cross the highway.
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1822 13 15
|
Somewhere a banjo, somewhere a hound.
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1822 2 1
|
She stepped into a pair of high heeled slippers and began to dance. She was Salome, a witch, dancing like the most beautiful, the most skilled whores of Paris.
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1822 2 1
|
She persisted. “How long have we been here?”
A note of anger crept into his voice. “How long? How long? Why …, why ….” He swallowed hard, realized he had forgotten.
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1822 18 19
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1822 7 2
|
It’s not just the mailman. It’s the logo on the mailbox down the street. It’s the uniform. It’s any man or woman in the whole unsettling profession.
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1822 20 8
|
Phoebe-Lou Adams wrote this of them
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1822 14 11
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1822 17 7
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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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1821 17 10
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“What are you doing, Maestro?"
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1821 13 11
|
they were open weekends if we needed to bring him in for euthanasia.
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1821 10 6
|
I turn up the music and slip into drone, rock it like a tunnel in canary. When that does not erase his face, I cup my breast with one hand and let my hair fall.
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1821 2 2
|
Her face had that strange preserved quality Maybelle saw in many aging Boomer women — like an old toy never removed from its packaging.
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1821 15 14
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it was your hands—caked
with years-old clay & quaking
from too much solitude
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1821 6 5
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This is Jorge. He was a good little monkey. And always curious.Like the time he and his friend, the man in the amarillo sombrero, had to fly to Japan. *Jorge sat by the window. Watched the ground get further away. Until they were above the clouds. He looked out…
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1821 10 8
|
nothing can stop a group of genteel Southern women from a card game, and divine intervention makes one's participation in such an event quite worthwhile
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1820 6 2
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She was in love with a boy whose eyes were so brown that she sat stopped in the restaurant at the anniversary dinner with the spoon in her slow chocolate fondant. Out of the corner of her eye, around the back of her head, under the table knees knocking
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1820 13 10
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the ugliness will not be denied
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1820 11 9
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They both have an annoying habit. She talks to him while she's in another room, and he doesn't answer because he can't hear what she's saying.
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1820 1 1
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Once, when I had not talked to you in a long time, I woke with your name in my mouth.
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1820 5 2
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And the voodoo pins pinged as, folding and imploding, she was reduced to a petro-chemical puddle.
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