1709 5 0
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In a little dirt church at the end of the world stands the ikon of an unrecognized saint.
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1709 3 1
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Everything is painted black that isn’t glass, velvet, neon, or chrome. The club is cold, and the DJ who broke-up with me while I forgot I was stoned is spinning his favorites to an empty floor. Endings have a rhythm. I heard this one coming. I can hear it
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1709 1 0
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The separation—the plan—had been a long time coming. After years of fighting and therapy and apologizing and, finally, silence, their marriage was about to die of exhaustion.
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1709 19 17
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1709 4 1
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My ride, my good friend Morning was due any minute, but of course, he/she was always late. My costume was a dog. I was stuck to another dog, in the act of passion. A stuffed one. A basset hound. I said my name was Lightning.
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1709 12 9
|
now the days are empty
and time has lost its head
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1709 0 0
|
Harris Tobiasharristob@gmail.comThe Alarm A terrible clanging in the middle of the night roused me from my bed. I put on some clothes and hurried into the street there to mingle with my bleary eyed neighbors. At first we thought it was a fire but there was…
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1708 0 0
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"Only the gods in heaven can do such things," he shouted back, his voice hoarse and parched from no water for two days. "Wouldn't your God have saved you by now if he had the power?"
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1708 3 3
|
Let's buy this robin's egg blue furniture. Okay. Let's buy this album full of wren songs. Uh, okay.
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1708 10 7
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Most everything is white because white means clean and hospitals are supposed to be clean. They wouldn’t let me leave.
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1708 9 3
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Where I work people use words like leverage. They do not appear to denote anything.
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1708 13 6
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The clacking ventilator reminds me of ice cubes rattling in your highball...
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1708 3 2
|
The most beautiful possible thing is to deprive all places of their meanings.
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1708 7 4
|
You're on the Ferris wheel, and the wind is blowing just a little bit, and the sky is invisible behind a wash of white clouds, and your little yellow box tips when you look down, down to the fairway swinging. In the boxes below grandmothers are shrieking …
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1707 9 6
|
Can I still be in your pictures?
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1707 12 3
|
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1707 2 0
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I am a shadow. Cooler than liquid. I don't need a container to take shape.
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1706 8 2
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Entering that darkroom is like slipping through the barrel of a rifle.
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1706 7 2
|
The ice in my drink provides ample cooling. The brew strength of my tea is just such that it combines in a pleasing fashion with the melting ice. My mind is clear and my belly absent hunger. I am completely sated from any physical desire at this very mome
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1706 6 6
|
Oh, gracious mercy, oh...
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1706 19 13
|
but I pretend again I've kept the prairie/
out, have battled back the smoke and dirt
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1706 1 0
|
Either they got married in the church dressed in their mothers’ bridal gowns, gaudy and ancient dresses with off-white lace faded from years of hanging in the attic, or they snuck down to city hall...
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1706 10 9
|
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1706 1 1
|
The White House released only a short-form pedigree certificate, which “breeders” claim bears signs of alteration. “The ‘K’ in the middle of ‘AKC’ is longer than the other letters, like an El Greco on an acid trip.”
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1706 6 6
|
No one writes epics anymore. Why? Perhaps it's because we no longer share mythologies. Once there was a shepherd, and now there is a Google bus loaded with pricks. Yes, you say, but they are good at math. Each and every one of them. And this is true. I envy them…
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1706 9 8
|
You were always goingto connect the dots. I was always goingto overfill a bucketwith poems. You wouldeventually drive off wavingyour hand like astar on a spring. I'dshoulder up another notebookfor the walk. Myhand would rather holda pencil. Yours wouldaccept a kiss…
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1706 9 4
|
“Are you my neighbor in 3D?” Was she?
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1706 6 4
|
We need to keep writing
because the great ones
aren’t always that great
We need to keep writing
to insure that the future
even has a future
We need to keep writing
because the wind won’t know how
or when to listen if we don’t
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1706 9 9
|
Your honour stinks of failed fishing trips to Galway.
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1706 18 12
|
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.
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