1834 21 19
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I once read a book of warnings.
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1834 3 2
|
He kept the lawn mowed at the perfect height. He mowed it twice a week to one inch. Some weeks he mowed it a third time for good measure.
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1833 12 7
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Emma and I were in a shabby part of town with vacant lots and overgrown yards, and I wondered if something would happen as we loped beside Tom, who was slow-witted and 21. We were 13 . . .
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1833 16 13
|
Suddenly a hand shot up on the other side of a hedge. “I’ll have one of those!” cried someone who remained invisible.
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1833 3 2
|
The smell of candy and burn... /A patriotic prose poem for the fourth of July.
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1833 10 6
|
Now that I no longer sleep to see you,
propelled by this motion that is not magic
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1833 8 1
|
She had a strange name which I am ashamed/
To have forgotten, seven times, maybe nine,/
Her lips transgressors, wet with sourapple ...
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1833 5 1
|
‘Oh, and try these. ' She handed me a plastic baggy full of seeds that resembled watermelon seeds, only smaller. ‘If these don't work your problem runs deeper...'
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1833 13 6
|
Occasionally, I look down and spit.
Not caring that it originates from
the deepest hole in my lungs,
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1833 17 13
|
and the mass exceeds the buoyancy/
and gravity pulls you back,
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1833 12 13
|
The moonlight news is brutal
|
1833 13 5
|
The Fuddy-Duddy Writer does not do wit.
|
1833 0 0
|
you choose to be mine
when you take hold of my hand -
silently, i'm yours
|
1833 1 0
|
And so the man-faced boy grew alone, knowing little of kindness and love. As he grew, he explored the limits of his cold world; crawling in dusty nappies, toddling in hand-me-down rags, at last walking on worn sandals, haunting the edges of human life loo
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1833 21 18
|
After the funeral there was a luncheon in the church basement.
|
1832 12 2
|
i miss you/
at times unbearably/
a dull ache that won’t quit
|
1832 8 5
|
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1832 0 0
|
". . . with the impact of a 18-wheeler jack-knifed into a Mini-Cooper as it hits the surface."
|
1832 3 3
|
“Turn the fucking thing off!” I yelled above the noise. “It’s fucking New Year’s morning!”
|
1832 12 11
|
I am sitting on our porch in the middle of the night. I can't sleep. The stars look like runway lights. Out of boredom, I reach out my hand to connect the distant dots. The tip of my finger hits…
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1832 21 12
|
It is a well-known fact that my wife sleeps around. There. I said it and now everyone knows that I too know about my wife. Let me just tell you this one thing; she has her reasons. You ask me how I know that she has her reasons, but who would know better than…
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1832 2 0
|
She suggested just moving in together. A lot less constrained by convention she, on occasion, did not wear a bra.
|
1831 15 9
|
“Phennias Jessup is his name. That’s his death’s head scroll, an hourglass, bats, spirals and angel’s wings on either side of the top part of the stone. "
|
1831 13 8
|
I’m aware I will never be a woman the night you leave me for another city
|
1831 8 3
|
I was making good bread as a New York studio musician and jingle writer, anonymous back-room jobs.
|
1831 11 8
|
But it all works out. I guess. Truth is something I'm sure I've never seen before, but the more time goes on, the Less I'm inclined to believe in it. Still I don't want To be one of those giving the finger to God And begging for a showdown with an…
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1831 2 1
|
(For Dancer and Guitar) …
|
1831 8 2
|
Looking for meaning in spaces between words.
|
1831 10 1
|
I told you that I have homicidal urges that alternate with ones of the suicidal kind. You flicked an imaginary speck of dust from your fat, fleshy forefinger with your ultra-flexible, wimpy thumb.
|
1831 4 2
|
He finds a beach ball and recreates humanity upon it. Kicking it down the shore he wonders how the little people must feel about each other. To place them on such a tiny globe almost seems unfair.
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