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RT @dadaism #amwriting

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How much do book editors earn? Peacock Love. (aww…)

Stones

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At the graveyard, the leaves had been raked into loose array....

Security

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Her preferred post-coital activity is to pant, to suck in air with urgent greed.

Uncle Moscow

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He asked me to bury him in Vegas. Instead, I had him cremated in Trenton.

The agreement

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It felt like he'd just taken his marriage out into the woods, forced it to its knees, and put a bullet through its head. Or they had, together.

Stories with a hole in it: Tales from Xanadu -------1. The kite

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U-R, UltraReads is my new concept, an experiment designed to suit contemporary need and taste. The handy tablet-size reads can be easily done from your phone anytime, anywhere in the world. Each one comes together with a visual to make the reading experience more…

Nightmare

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I loved to visit my grandparents when I was a kid.

City Girls Never Need Car Keys

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But they all know the parking prayer...

Prime cut

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1I don't like it when they leave the heads on.I mean it's not nice, is it.The idyllic order of the abattoir.Mary is on stunning and bleeding.She prefers evisceration.Still, the work's ok and it's her day off tomorrow.Deft hands perform their daily ballet.Mary had a…

Cradle

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Fingers fan like birds’ wings cradling the volume, head hanging low and lips moving silently...

Hole

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For a person you don't know, a stranger with a lot of place, you think much of him.

Balls

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Evening was drawing nigh and Mosby's horse had tired from the daylong ride.

28

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The signal sets the faint young boys into motion

Journal of Puritan Minister, Jon Sorrim: Fragment 1

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It was the first time I had ever seen a possession.

Love, a comet, omens and wings

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My love for him like wax wings/ so long they stretched eternal— beating in the sky, grazing peaks,

Truth Or Consequence - 4

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"When we say something is good, beautiful, pious, or brave, what idea or image do we hold in our mind?"

Lines Written in a Honda Civic

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Raymond Carver used to write poetry in his car. / Tonight, I tried it too. / I have a car like Raymond Carver / but cannot write poetry like Raymond Carver. / The car isn’t enough.

Daddy, Can I Have A Puppy?

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Dad must have walked around with me 20 times, the store closed around us and finally he said I could have one. They were all in different poses and sizes, with black spots. Except one. One had silver spots.

Fantasm

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but with a light, a rainbow light which was scattered, maybe she herself was a scattering of light, an infinity of universes caught like the opening rays of sunlight

Game Day

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Being awake for the sunrise, that is the good planfor writing poemsand listening to enginesbirdsand bus stop silence.Now, I'm going to smokeout back on my roof porchfrom this atticapartmentin this desert land of big-titted blondesand listen to stadium fansrage…

Building

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he told me to be careful,my feet may bleedI watched him walk up and down the path,occasionally bendingwhy?carpenter nails, pieces of broken shinglesall along the pathnow I know why

Parcel

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you hear the knell of kindness long before its cathedral voices -- a recessional -- barters better times.

Turkey Hunt

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While I was still new at Black & Twigg, shortly before Thanksgiving, Percy brought me a handwritten memo to type, the subject “Turkey Hunt,” addressed to all Black & Twigg employees in the San Francisco office from management. It said that the firm…

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 7

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Warren Jeffries had called me on the phone the night before and said, “Listen to this,” as he held the receiver out his bedroom window at the noise coming from the riot on campus. They were spraying gas over People’s Park, trying to get them to disp

Good & Plenty

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From across the crowded bar, past the be-suited lobbyists and in between the plates of fried calamari and glasses of cabernet being hustled to and fro by the Salvadoran waiters, Travis could see that John had changed. Not much, but enough to be noticeable. A little grey…

Doors

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Marge came home with a Doors CD.

Momma’s Don’t let Your Daughters Grow up to be Cowdykes

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She could see very clearly in her mind many size five girls with radically short hair and Cowdyke outfits from places like L. L. Bean.

Molasses

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My T-shirt read BOO HOO.

Here I Am

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Here I am in the city where we walked side by side, you had driven a great distance and lost your way somewhere where exits left the highway from both directions and unpredictably.

One Regrettable Talent for Tragedy

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Vandalina embarked on her career of serious dramatic roles to widespread acclaim, her depth of feeling and potency of delivery winning her thunderous ovations and gushing reviews . . .