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Our Terror Closet

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"Honey," I called out to my wife. "Why do we have Spam in the closet?" "You mean unsolicited bulk messages sent electronically?" "No--the canned, precooked meat product made by the Hormel Corporation."

DANCING ON AIR

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You were at a saloon on Water Street. Witnesses say. You were taken out of the place and put on a sloop against your will. Witnesses don’t say.

At the Number Party

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and dreamed itself infinite.

Best Place To Eat in Town

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Often I eat lunch at the hospital. The cafeteria may be the best place to eat in town.

Scarf

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Phil doesn’t know anything. He thinks his truck is possessed by his dead mother.

Life Experience

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Karen likes to make a big deal about life experience. Specifically how much more she has than me. What that actually means, she's never made clear. The definition changes and mutates as the years go by, always in her…

Mnemonics

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

Wild Dreams ofReality, 11

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I took my first shower away from home as if it were a ritual cleansing. It felt especially good, even exciting to be taking a shower in the bathroom of another woman. Why was that? Maybe because it didn't have marble around the bathtub, and it wasn't e

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…

Punkboy vs. Planned Parenthood

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I am gonna pound you face through that plate glass protective door until everyone who needs help can get in without your judgy face looking at them.

Verboten

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

Optimism

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I paused in case she said more. Then, “He’s very faint but he wants to talk.” She leaned forward, chin almost resting on the grey-haired woman in front of her. “Tell him to shout.”

Dropped stones, skimmed skin

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Skim. The stone slipped across the top of the water. The sea was a battleship grey with a liver of cerulean, foaming at the lips its puckered kisses smacking on the shore.

Snow Angels (after Sandy Hook)

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The weatherman can't predict accumulation. He can only tell you it will be cold. Expect ice, wind, snow, expect delays. Your daughters play outside, dancing around the Evergreen, its branches bearing the weight of snow, its branches

Green Animals

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Tough boys with loose pants come out at this hour; their long chains swing from low pockets, their virile scent bites like steel in the cold night.

To Know but not Really

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So strange this feelingTo meet someone I've haven't really metTo know someone I don't actually knowTo desire to learn more but sure I never willTo feel connected not knowing what I'm connected toTo read words, thoughts, feel moved by them, but never hear a voice

Almanac

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I said, “Marcy, Source Almanac is a guide for the Apple.”

Driving Old

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I drive old now

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

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what is raised up must rest on its foundation.

Confession

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stole

Polaroids at the Old Place

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Can I still be in your pictures?

Lips of an Angel

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“Hey honey. How are you?” The man sat down in the office chair, his cell phone pressed against his ear. Light peeked beneath the closed door from the main area of…

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.

Charlotte and the Avalanche of Hope

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”My goodness how that child nurses hope,” Edward’s Grandad would often say, “were it not for her where indeed would this family be?”

from MLKNG SCKLS

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94% Battery Power Remaining Last night I dreamt about a mutt whose tail never learned how to wag, and under a sun that gagged us with heat, the mutt sat stoned with its mouth belching cones of pot smoke. Sometimes the smoke shone orange – sometim

Good Help Is Hard to Find

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Some of them are notorious tweakers. Nobody epitomizes the cowboy-outlaw biker more than the ironworkers, who are wired on Black Beauties they sell on breaks.

When a Bastard Stares at the Sun

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The sun is going to slice your goddamn face open.

So What

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This morning I heard her downstairs trying to get away silently. I knew she would write a short goodbye note. I knew it would tell me her reason for leaving —she had to be free of my indifference. I dressed, finished my coffee, backed out of the driveway and went to…

El Desdichado by Nerval

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

Frozen Bird Pie

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I like how you completely disappeared inside a undetermined and yet planned point of pretty good view, like a rabbit with a gold chained pocket watch, like a stunned, frozen bird with a still burning bullet in its tinyfeathered brain. You could…