1796 4 3
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take back all the falderal
and friggin' fiddle dee dee
take back the mad murmuring
of ten minutes ago
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1796 11 5
|
Marge came home with a Doors CD.
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1796 4 4
|
The litany of tough decisions scrawled on. Stencil Gucci on no-name jeans. Buy cheap chocolate and scrape the name off. I looked over and watching the saliva encrusting in the corner of Larry’s mouth, my heart sank.
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1796 2 1
|
Clare sits bolt upright in the hard plastic chair, warily tracking every passer-by. In her lap, Kim’s hair is damp with sweat, dark blonde curls melting against her flushed cheeks. Clare absently strokes the length, soothing both of them.
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1796 10 8
|
Do you think that’s a good idea, you said. Sure, I said, as the men coiled up the anaconda and put it in a second truck that had arrived. You don’t think anyone will wonder what our motives are?
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1796 9 9
|
For another man she raced through infinite wounds and fists in a monsoon forest. Hands tied to her lover’s for a dance, a roulette of paper cranes exploding across the sky. Cascaded into the sea of black eyelashes.
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1796 9 7
|
powerless against the memory of the earth-bank and the river flows, through a susurrus field of a million quills
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1795 2 2
|
mr cummings sounded too formal for a man who didn’t use capital letters. As she climbed the four flights of stairs to the flat, she sang to herself, “I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart).”
|
1795 5 3
|
“No names,” she said. “I am the mysterious woman, and you are the handsome stranger.”
|
1795 5 4
|
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1795 0 0
|
The unfanged obscene had finally caught him in the night.
|
1795 4 4
|
The signal sets the faint young boys into motion
|
1795 10 8
|
The planet looks so peaceful from space doesn't it? Want a blue Gumball? Like a pancake batter with bluish dye mixed into Its big yellow bowl and carried out by a winking Victorian Butler. Like a bowling ball with just the right Weight for your…
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1795 5 2
|
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1795 8 3
|
I want her life to pass in a world without meridian
|
1794 17 9
|
He deplaned Air France flight 9 from JFK to Charles de Gaulle airport at quarter past noon.
|
1794 12 11
|
You make your art when you can and Perhaps vice versa. You really Don't know what that means? Consult your tarot. You make your Art and visualize your mind As a large pool of water. You Make your art and if you're lucky They may…
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1794 3 0
|
I was a Cub Scout, and the face of God was a joke that was told to my little pack. The joke went as thus:
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1794 14 9
|
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1794 8 8
|
He's not something you'll want, waiting for you, inside your living room's ear. Go and see your family. Breathe the broad daylight whenever you can. I got lost in some free form dog caves. That's all. That's no path to aspire to …
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1794 5 4
|
THERE'D been mutterings on the shareholders' board about a dodgy deal shoved through. In the rush after the towers' thing to get out relevant stock an executive producer had signed off on some film school kid for five big ones to shoot a…
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1794 10 5
|
I tell my doc I’m special, 1 in 1,000,000 special: unhitched, pushing 44, and knocked up. "Call Guinness," I joke, and fake jab his right arm. He puts his two hands over mine, smiles gently, like a father.
|
1793 2 1
|
But forever is only for dragons, and children need to be touched or they die.
|
1793 1 1
|
Fingers fan like birds’ wings
cradling the volume,
head hanging low
and lips moving silently...
|
1793 16 12
|
Indeed, it was quite likely that no one in town had ever played either of these games. The townsfolk were not big fans of word games, though they did enjoy Whist and Canasta.
|
1793 0 0
|
We are the images, the tableau vivant, the one-person shows, the scenes from scattered plays. We wait for the Caretaker who prompts us to play and replay one by one on her rounds.
|
1793 8 2
|
“What are you doing after this?” I asked, faking a self confidence I didn’t truly posses at fifteen. I didn’t seem to realize that I wasn’t old enough for any of the clubs they’d go to. I’d heard that fans sometimes followed the band to an after-party.
|
1793 1 3
|
"Carl, do you think we can fit all of our furniture into that red house?" Jeanne asks. She wonders how easily you could burn a red house down, if a claw foot tub will melt or be left standing in a field of black grass. He reaches for her hair, the dizzy smell…
|
1793 19 14
|
His work was done. For sixty years, beginning soon after his seventeenth birthday, he had listened to the gods- good, bad, somewhere in between-
|
1793 8 4
|
He was ready for the rub. Tense. She could always tell. The legs, the shuffles. He had to be frantic before he would come to her, his own wife. Vanity, fright. She could read him like a book open on the table, turn his pages the way a fish flakes. "It's comfort night,…
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