1840 11 9
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Your precious feet were there once, pressed against the familiar floorboards, where your poems suddenly appeared to you, flashing like lightning. I wonder which window they came in? Here's a thought: you were like that window. You caught…
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1840 0 1
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A.K.AAmputated narratives of the not yet come emancipatory orderModesty would be forestalled (left aside) in the case of the title "The Mess...."But who can shoulder the visceral (cough) burden of what is to come?" - The God of Trifling Grammatical…
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1840 7 5
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they got some heat here in the West
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1839 13 6
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Attached in the center were the petals of a small flower pressed in wax paper. Uncreased, she read it out loud
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1839 5 3
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I opened my switchblade mouth and sliced
through the scab of silence.
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1838 5 4
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The first engine arrived and a fireman heavy with gear stumbled from the side railing.
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1838 12 9
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When did the air become warning?That clairvoyant delft and Delphic sky.What strange and ardent premonitionheld sway? Where were we goingbefore this hard work of constant falling?We were catching cabs and making breakfast,ironing, cursing late trains; hoping the deal…
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1838 2 0
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A spark is a gouged word: stewed to annihilate, scrambled, botched in a pot to dry. Lead us to the quiver, let us tremble. Noon, we paw nails under rugs, run fingertips over books, rip cupboards from hinges and spiral open the machine, for the creature is near the roof or…
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1838 6 3
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She breezes through the door, cellphone to ear, with the confidence of the affluent. Can you look at my left rear tire, the dashboard indicator says it's low. Back to her phone, Oh, Marsha, hi, how are you, you gorgeous WOMAN, you!? Hey, I'm on my way to…
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1838 5 5
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1838 9 1
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it’s women i’ve loved/
or men i owe money
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1838 12 10
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1838 1 0
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"So" he started, which troubled me enough to turn back around and make such focused eye contact that I did not even notice his glass was again full, "you wanted to talk?"
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1838 7 8
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of any cautionary tale is somewhere found rolling around in your own sweet voice for me. Your sound's still listing there inside my wobbly head. My head is too often in my open hands, grinning behind its face-mask like a parade on…
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1838 7 2
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Of course the man went tumbling, and though he fell not far, a falling with a body full of meats and sweet breads makes the landing something awful-not so bad that Desperate got it-only so the leg puffed like a blue, rain swollen, earth-bound cloud.
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1837 27 11
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1837 13 4
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Sun strikingGolden snow glistens Across empty fieldsLong winter shadowsTrees like fingers The morning in their grasp
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1837 2 2
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Pauleen tries to split open her legs because she doesn’t understand how to love someone without them.
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1837 4 2
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and to adorn my hair I chose every kind of light
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1837 6 5
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All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. All was confusion in the Lubrecht house. Baby Lubrecht had discovered that his favorite blankey, thought by him to have been lost, was in fact being used by his older sister, Lilly Lubrecht.…
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1837 8 4
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Bare feet on hardwood floor
Twists into circles
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1837 15 12
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(I'd appreciate some feedback on this very weird story.) A Frosted Mini Wheat walks in to a bar...
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1837 0 0
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If you want job security on this planet, you'd better study art.
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1837 5 5
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His people eat soggy casseroles and smile with tight lips.
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1836 2 1
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But forever is only for dragons, and children need to be touched or they die.
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1836 3 5
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I was sitting on the steps in the entryway to our apartment building taking off my running shoes when I spotted a paperclip on the floor. I assumed it had fallen from the mail that my wife had just taken from our mailbox. Once my shoes were removed, I went down to pick…
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1836 5 4
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Beneath the crosshatch gazes of the satellites and above the maze of sound, seahorse clouds exhale a glaucoma haze before they are absorbed into surveillance footage
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1836 16 11
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“If 'neighbor' applies to women who covet—'deliriously desire'—husbands from Angers, then one day he'll be your husband's neighbor," I say.
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1836 6 1
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Do you think we die when we age?Or when a car runs over our hearts?We die slowly, minute by minute, every secondBy the time you read this, you've died a little
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1836 5 5
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If there is an airport, it is one of dreams. If there is a dream, it is one of shadows. If there are shadows, there is not much more but the thoughts of a short man meeting a short woman on a runway of forbidden desires, in a foreign city belonging to n
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