1853 9 6
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He has no plan, he needs a plan, he has no plan, he needs a plan -- the two thoughts bounce around inside his skull like racquet balls.
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1853 2 2
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Hi, I'm Harmony Korine. I esteem douchebags.
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1853 2 0
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This is an older story that was inspired by research on naming conventions while trying to find record of my own ancestors in the Ukraine. I did not find them. Instead I was inspired to write this.
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1853 4 1
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Cassie cradles the loaf-sized phone – pinker than any girl – and dials. he's not wearing a hat says the phone and we all scratch our pencils on the boy-list.
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1853 14 7
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a bird who gives messages
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1853 0 0
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Physicists say that a tremendous amount of energy has to be generated in order to rip through space-time, to jump to another place, and at this time, we're incapable of doing it. I have to disagree. They've never met my brain. I fear it's going to kill me
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1853 2 1
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Unlike me, Gino could walk up to a group of unattached women, say something sensitive and thoughtful like “Hey, hey, hey!”–and suddenly the fun would begin.
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1853 2 1
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People crawling up out of the chimney, then onto the roof, then sliding down it and off over the edge disappearing from view.
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1853 8 5
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1853 2 1
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Tara was so tired. The bus connection was off again, and her ankles were so swollen. Maybe it was the heat, the humidity, she wasn't sure… but things were definitely getting worse. She sighed. At least the bus shelter had an empty spot on the bench, so as she…
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1853 3 1
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The weird thing was that standing here with himself, or what appeared to be himself, he had got so self-conscious that it was almost paralyzing.
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1852 9 4
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1852 14 9
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“Mommy,” the voice was thin as a fledgling's. “I'm here, baby,” I said. An arm rose from the pavement and small fingers wound themselves into my…
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1852 14 9
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In the late 60’s, I lived on West 71st street in Manhattan and borrowed books from a store.
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1852 4 1
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Wives, without exception, have birthdays,
which if forgotten, are much-less-than-mirth days.
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1852 18 13
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Rough sonnet about faded love
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1852 7 3
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Looking at his pale and pimpled flesh, he was repulsed by his flaccid and lifeless member. The accompanying bits, dangled about far from his frame as the summer heat drew them away from his sweaty and unwashed body.
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1852 13 6
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Men aren't good at these kinds of things, my mother tells me. She states it as if it is a scientific fact.
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1852 1 0
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My best friend Khaled’s idea was, he’d set up a pool tournament. Nine-ball. Each church would send a player, and whichever church won, he’d join. Any church that wouldn’t shoot pool, he wouldn’t want to join.
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1852 2 1
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"They treat us like shit," the mathematician said. "They think they can just take us and electrocute us and drown us."
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1852 2 1
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My legs hung over the bed as I leaned over the food tray. Under my left arm was Adele, my toy cat. I wondered if the staff told the boy of my ritual of always feeding Adele first before I gave the spoon to myself.
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1852 2 3
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But they all know the parking prayer...
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1851 0 0
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stoplight - (haiku love series - #2)
eyes lock in a gaze
glimpses of my future spark
then you walk away
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1851 10 6
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1851 5 4
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It is late at night and you lean / over me to make sure your alarm is set.
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1851 5 3
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and that you once had / still sometimes sold savory pies out the side of a truck at renaissance fairs alongside your mum with her fake braid in a wrong color wrapped round her head.
& you called the sky 'corrugated' or 'promising as a line of chorus g
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1851 7 7
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The careful paths of larger versions gave me enough time to think, to sense their fears from pauses between footsteps, and prepare those minutes, hours, weeks before they decomposed into my whole.
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1851 4 0
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“Hey,” I begin, a naughty smile breaking across my face before I can get to the punchline, “Want to drive around flipping off anyone with a Romney bumper sticker?”
Kaleb chuckles and beams at me. It seems everyone likes a good girl turned naughty.
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1851 1 1
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I. The girl within the sleeping woman dreams her dream of ending. To her comes the cowgirl with no kids: she's riding high atop her turquoise horse, steady by its braided mane. Silver pistols holstered. The girl in the woman in the dream she's dreaming…
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1850 2 3
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Ride me, I say, and you never hear. No matter how I shine my padding, it's never what draws you to me. I only get to touch you when you feel guilty, and most of the time, it's only through shorts and graduated compression socks. What does my desire matter? It all comes out…
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