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El Desdichado by Nerval

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Give me back my / singularity, my tristesse, my photo ID.

Museum of Everything

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It is the monad.

Long Sticks Are Often Useful

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It was just lying there by the side of the road next to a mailbox, pockets turned out, weeds kinda rolled flat around it. I counted three nickels, a dime, and a cigar butt too. I could sure use the change for gum, but I didn't want to get near it. It looked dead,…

Cymbals Guy

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cymbals guy — another way of saying hey turdshitface haul your skinnyass to the front of the bus.

Not Lao-tzu's Magna Carta, xxxviii - xlv

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what is raised up must rest on its foundation.

The Cat was Wrong

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Bitch My brother is the only person who dared to slaughter a bitch and its five puppies. It is sickening to write this story. Sickening to read it. This happened on Sunday night when the muezzin called for the prayer. The puppies were…

Panorama

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Ben tossed the newspaper aside, muttering. Carol, curled up on the sofa, peered past the glasses at the tip of her nose and past the crossword puzzle. "What?" "The Brits wanted to fight rather than be taken hostage. They had an escort boat ridin

Invasive Species

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Except, something about Margaret was a little off. She would stop typing suddenly and look up at the plant, studying it, almost as if daring it to cross her. Then, she would go back to her computer and start pounding away again.

Happy Valentine's Day From Your Librarian

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Is every librarian a poet at heart? I don't know, but a group of librarians recently put their heads together and came up with these library-themed Valentine's Day poems: Roses are red Your book's overdue You've had it for months Which is…

Self Portrait with Google

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Try it with and without/ middle name or middle initial.// Try different keywords.

Mine

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My father was dating already. Her name was Shelly. She had a man-like body, buck teeth and red hair, a big forehead. I don't know what bog she climbed out of. She wanted to fill in for my mother, but I locked her out of my room. I just wanted to be sad and hold…

Naming Crayons, or the Edges of Denim

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neon carrots and atomic tangerines

Mnemonics

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I write to make visible my small/ assertions against impermanence.

Molly was a F***ing Tourist

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The boys drank in one room. The girls in another. Always the same, no matter the letters. Greek Letters. Shabby sofa on the burnt-out lawn.

Dad, August 10, 2010

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Satchmo sings a love song over the sound system. People read books, tap keyboards, drink coffee, eat cake. In Barnes & Noble—more a coffee shop these days than a bookstore—I am thinking about my dad and his stomach cancer.The terror he…

The Man Who Couldn't Move

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Without warning his eyes expertly navigated into a closed position setting off the dream machine long without power until this very second.

Stories of Love Under a Full Moon

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What do you do when someone’s in love and you know it’s wrong?

The Blonde Bombshell

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We lived across, the street, across North Govenor, from a pretty art student whose stripper name was Jan the Blonde Bombshell.

February 1964

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New York, New York The winter drizzle left the streets shiny like in movies and this night Manhattan looked like it should look, vibrant, clean and sparkling. It was…

THE SONGBIRD AND ME

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“Tell me again,” you whisper softly, “about the songbird.”

Verboten

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Scales were installed on station platforms. Those who were overweight were turned away

Captains of Industry

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Renee said, "I have actually slept with a number of Captains of Industry and would rate them, overall, deficient in skills."

THE RUNAWAY (I)

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Her purse still hangs on the knob by the door, and seeing it is all that keeps Josh from freaking out because he knows she can’t go too far or too long without her purse.

About Those High Tension Wires In Our Backyard

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In all the years we lived here we never had any issues from the power towers behind our house, other than them being slightly unsightly. I didn't even notice them when we would socialize out back, especially when drinking. When it rains you can sometimes

Cento In Prose and Poetry

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*A"Cento" which is a "patchwork poem" using the words of other writers. for V.W. …

The Rhythm of the Cows

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A cow wanders onto a roof and falls through the skylight. It's a calamity, but such an innocent mistake. Mightn't you amble onto a rooftop once upon a full winter snow in Vermont?Another cow climbs a gravel mound in…

(after Hemingway)

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FOR SALE. One prom dress, never worn. Size 18.

A Jungle Tale

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He awoke with a start. This was not the first time he did so. He couldn't afford these occasional bouts of sleep. And certainly not in the land of the Tsantsa hunters.

Lunch Bird

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The bird studies me, we lock stares, with no care for who blinks first, birds don’t do macho stand-off.

Fine Yellow Dust

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In the dream Yesler rolled, a broad avenue made of fine yellow dust, from Third down toward Second, and I made my way in the silence and bright morning air. To my left on the corner of Second stood the old Mocambo cafe and lounge, home to drag…