1839 0 1
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you'll call it jealousy, but i promise youit's really not, because i wouldn't liketo have your life any more than i wouldmine. because really, i lead a life notunlike that of a housecat, knockingaround and getting spooked by closingdoors when i know nobody is in. what…
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1839 3 3
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“Turn the fucking thing off!” I yelled above the noise. “It’s fucking New Year’s morning!”
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1839 22 12
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I liked the taste in my mouth, mint and cigarettes and fresh and filthy.
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1839 2 0
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Nothing more savory than gossip relayed in confidential tones.
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1839 4 0
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I don’t know what to make of this new territory we have stumbled into neither by accident, it seems, or design. Is there a map to be found?
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1839 14 8
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You always complained that Christmas/
ruined your birthday/
sister.
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1838 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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1838 10 6
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Now that I no longer sleep to see you,
propelled by this motion that is not magic
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1838 3 2
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Teaching never occurred to me in college. I took workshops and wrote often. Friends and classmates, meanwhile, switched from studio majors to Art Education, or from English to Certification. Not me. Teaching high-schoolers would be all wrong. Briefly, I…
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1838 2 1
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Mower hits a rock and the blades scream.
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1837 12 2
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i miss you/
at times unbearably/
a dull ache that won’t quit
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1837 5 4
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Jerrod's lips and tongue were like slabs of bologna someone shook in Kirsten’s face as she hit the turn signal.
Kirsten was proud of herself. She'd been taking it well and she was pretty sure her real feelings weren’t poking through.
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1837 8 3
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I was making good bread as a New York studio musician and jingle writer, anonymous back-room jobs.
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1837 5 1
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‘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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1837 8 3
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I walked on hot coals. She got ahead of me. (228 words)
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1837 0 0
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". . . with the impact of a 18-wheeler jack-knifed into a Mini-Cooper as it hits the surface."
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1837 8 9
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I worry about my garden. I know there are larger concerns lurking in the stale shadows than my limp little flowers, things more pressing to the meeting of minds than thick lush green leaves might bring, but this is my own greenish way of …
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1837 0 0
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7
We sat in Darrell's truck in the deserted silent world of the down-trodden industrial area of West Berkeley, where no one in his right mind went at five in the morning. "Put the gun away, Darrell," I said. "I mean it."
"I can't help but keep
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1836 3 2
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The smell of candy and burn... /A patriotic prose poem for the fourth of July.
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1836 11 8
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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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1836 12 7
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wrenched its lower back trying so hard to lift too many stacked November clouds off the newly shaved prickly heads of the slowly freezing trees,like ring weights,and had to spend the last of its hours setting in a small square box in…
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1836 3 5
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My mother and I are close We talk like friends I tell her about people I'm dating She gets excited for me And she asks how it's going When I tell her I think I'm gay She says nothing She does not ask about the woman I am seeing She does not ask how I am doing …
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1836 3 1
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I can only see their eyes in the dark, reflected in the light from my flashlight. It's so quiet. I only hear the sound of my own breath. I hold the flashlight steady. Maybe they will think I'm not a threat if I'm not moving. It's a small hope. Yet here we are, at a…
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1836 4 4
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She has a mercenary way of doing business and she's pretty shrewd. I make her stand outside to smoke her cigarette. I stay inside watching her stance as she violently tugs at the barrel, tearing every ounce of smoke out of it, then stamping it out as I wo
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1836 13 12
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1836 21 19
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I once read a book of warnings.
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1836 1 0
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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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1836 21 18
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After the funeral there was a luncheon in the church basement.
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1836 1 2
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1835 6 6
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But the best thing about Rebekah
was the way she floated always
beneath the scent of woodburn
and dusty Middle America,
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