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Enough, Trump

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Enough, Trump.We've had it my dear, with your pink ties, your hairs, your swagger, towers, your plenty of monies,your tempers, your honeys. I don't speak for all, not at all, but for many who never did like your style or bile, your tenacious temerity,…

Solar

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Trollo Martinez was wearing a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses and an old LA Community College T-Shirt. He needed to find some water so he could down the 5milligram tab of Ritalin in the palm of his hand.

Drift

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Dreams & foghorns.

Flood

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My mother's afraid the dog will drown. It's raining and our street is flooding and the dog is standing on top of his doghouse. My mother is pregnant. I can stand beneath her stomach and not even see her face. I watch her from the kitchen window. She's shoeless. She holds…

Snatch 9 (there's been a time lapse)

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Blocks context...

For the young couple in the stairwell passed on my way to teaching Medieval World Literature

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I have/been you/years before/of course

The Office

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But I still don't have my underwear in the right place.

The Good Old Days

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What she didn't tell me was that her brother Carl got fried during an electrical storm.

Pigeon Post

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“Monetising the mecosystem” Theobald blathered, “extend the value proposition, core competencies create cash rich commitment free conurbations…partnership models proliferate non essential services spawning new opportunity…” Peregrine tried to

When the Muse Abandons You

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I am abandoned to the mundane/ calculations of a small mind/ trapped by small considerations

What Do You Mean, You Don't Sell Pigs Feet?

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“Excuse me–where are the pig’s feet?”

Self Help For Daydreamers

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I think I’ll get a tattoo. Not just any tattoo, one I’ll regret. I’ll catch people peering at it, trying to interpret the twists and swirls of the black ink on my fair skin.

Sign of the Times

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As I go by I see five, six high school kids standing on the corner waiting for the bus. They are huddled together like a bunch of ducks....

In the Pastel City

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Then I had / that dream

Future Imperfect, a Jeremiad

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the birth of a long, dark age// where the wealthy will be eaten by the poor/ and the poor will be eaten by disease

Off the Map

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It's difficult to remember, much less write down, the hard times you thought were unforgettable when you have a full stomach. It's hard to remember that dirty little room you rented in that house, from a Bosnian landlord, on 27th avenue and Missouri. The…

Amelia

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Every time she tries to sleep they come; legions of small armored things scuttle claws aloft across the purple sand as soon as she stops moving.

Daddy's Teeth

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At night, I wake up, and Daddy's in the bathroom with a hanger in his mouth....

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 2

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A large crowd of students began to gather around the base of the building that housed the administrative offices, where my hearing was being held. The meeting room was up on the second floor.

Six Points of Light/ Dark Star

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Johan was telling stories about the occupation. The Germans were stupid, he said.

Justice

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“Too dumb to live,” my wife said when cretins on a motorbike blasted around us nearly taking a side mirror with them.

Black Children Learn Derivatives

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The white faces of the train look up in an attempt to satisfy presumption, smoothing out any interest into glassy eyed gestures toward looking but lacking the very important quality of sight.

El Desdichado by Nerval

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

Tomatoes and Onions on the Bed

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That led to the first aid box on the bed at 3 in the morning, but what about those veggies?

Or Do You Love It?

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published in The Doctor T.J. Eckleburg Review.

Water

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The water rolls gently this evening, barely touching my toes before retreating. The tide has been going out for over an hour and already there are several victims – crustaceans, spider crabs, minnows.

Someday, Somewhere, waiting for me.

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Out in the open air, the sun's rays washing over the dead, open fields, Nick lay, his back against the wall of the train platform, eyes facing the sky, hands outstretched to the…

This Is Why I Write

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I do it for fun

Nest

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He spends his Sunday morning spraying WD-40 through the straw-like stream attachment at the expansive paper nest of beige and ivory striped wasps.

Marjan’s Tooth

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When my feet touched the ground on the tarmac at Bagram I cannot begin to describe the feeling I had. It was as if God had spoken to me directly, whispering in the cold mountain air: “Son of Marjan, I welcome you.” The feeling took hold and overcame m