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Crack Pot Bear Chili

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Hunters took 925 bears in the 2020 season in Vermont

Air On The G String

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If love could only by heat be bound

Hopper

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"Hey, man. All we represent to them, man, is somebody who needs a haircut."

Pretend

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A Brief History of The Real

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A little contempuous aside by the critical theorist guy, Frederick Jameson-- that it was logically absurd to call anything that human beings do, produce or effect “unnatural,”-- has brought forth the following. We are…

Leda and the Swan: Paul Gauguin

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Leda looks back over her shoulder at us as the swan grips her from behind while at the same time nipping at the nape of her neck. She's a freckled child and a little frightened. There's a dark smudge beneath her eye where the shadow runs. The swan

O'Arlo's Journal: About Myself

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Every morning if I don't have to go potty....

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 2

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Independence Day was a Thursday. Frank had been invited to join some Yale Art School classmates in Vermont for a three-day bacchanalia.

Late Night Learning

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A wrinkled man lie atop an ivory-clad mattress, matched sheets covered his body, matched hair covered his head.

The Ex

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In his mind, he could hear Eve’s voice, “We had some good times, didn’t we?”

Too Fast to be Fat

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As it turns out, hypertravel is surprisingly slimming.

Buzzkill.

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[EXPLETIVE DELETED]

Dishwasher

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Last night aliens invaded our dishwasher.

If You Have to Have an Ism

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This is a lady who never got a break.

Vienna

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I remember thinking the seasons are arriving later every year, as if the world has been slowed by the weight of graves.

Madness

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I read my book of names. Over and over again. Our name appeared in the newspaper 254,991 times between 1896 and 1944.

Good Fences

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I built the fence myself, strong and high and aesthetically pleasing. It was high enough to provide privacy on both sides, but from my bedroom balcony I could see everything. More than I wanted to see.

Blue Line Southbound

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Brazilian girls yammer with their book bags up against my leg.

Our Graves

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But no matter how we died, we all end up here, in the Meadowlark Children's Cemetery.

You deserve to be choked around your lying throat and this how it happens, slowly.

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Writing as a form of imaginative hatred

SOME NIGHTS

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Some nights you really feel it.

Footnote

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Weddings, engagements etc.

Lost Sister

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She looks exactly like my sister, though I do not have a sister.

Sex Coma

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If you were the ozone, I’d want to leave you gaping.

Cinnamon Doughnuts and a Neenish Tart

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Mr Robertson chuckled gently as he caught the aroma of freshly cooked cinnamon doughnuts and watched the oil leave its fingerprints.

Lewti & Loki

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I had no portent this would occur, / Ne'er did I see this happening, / Not days before, nor those coming;

Latté plus

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Hurried, hassling suit in front of me is being awful to the barista. So she refuses to serve him, turning away.

The Piano Player’s Dead Rejoice

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Requires one of those leaps.

Modest Proposal

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It could be fun,/ with the guns, explosives, Molotov/ Cocktails and all,

Every time we kiss, my hair falls out

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I’m in high leather boots; I’m talking many dead cows here and I respect that