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Backing up at Wal-Mart

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An action oriented solution for bovinity

30x30

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30 poems in 30 days

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…

Why We're Going to Eat Uncle John's Suicide for Breakfast, Tomorrow

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[Party!]

Bird Noises

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Let's buy this robin's egg blue furniture. Okay. Let's buy this album full of wren songs. Uh, okay.

Losing Things

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I infuriate myself with this gift.

Birth Mothers, Seeking

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A blonde girl, her youth evident beneath a cosmetic mask of bruised eye shadow and plum lipstick, claims the seat beside me on a train. A radiant six month-old gazes out from her hip, awe-struck at life, as my own son must have been at that age. I never e

Little Women

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The place is buzzing with little women, all clad in black smocks.

Archaeological Treasures Yet to Come

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The museum’s catalog description changed much less than the painting over those years. He wasn’t curator-in-chief of catalog descriptions, however, that task went to a curator arriving by another door.

For the Wives

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She parks the car and trudges insidefor her daily visithoping that the new rouge hidesthe old tears.Five years now she has been comingto see himHe looks nothing like the pictures toanyone but her.They say she should go homeand rest, relaxShe doesn't know how…

For the Woman Who Has a Hundred

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“What would you get? What should you give a lady who’s one hundred for her birthday?”

Last Visit to the Toy Store

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The two walked around, taking in all the classics: the imported Russian matryoshka dolls of varying styles and bright colors; spinning tops, red Radio Flyer wagons, kaleidoscopes, and wooden yo-yo's invoked memories of Christmases past. The hand-stitched

Tangerine Slip Cat

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I knew my cat was capable of telepathy when I began to have isolated, random, non-cause-related thoughts about food and feelings, little signals, and I realized that the signs — images of tangerines, tuna, bones; the idea of choice; slate, names; the feeling of…

The Dirt

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The coffin-sized pit in his basement wasn’t freshly dug.

The Fifth Snatch

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...oh shit...

The serious writer and her bush

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The serious writer looks back on a long and distinguished career as an herbologist.

Howie Mandel

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We love the sparkling, speckless, spotless, spic-n-span, sanitary.

The Rite and Wrong of Passage

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My sadistic doctor was the only one laughing . Yes sir, I was officially, cordially, confirmed to meet that Irish/ Russian fellow…Colon Oscopy.

Godfrey part 2: Marjory's bag

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"when I say bag, what I mean to say is…"

Your Move, Blattarian!

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Scavenge at that address only if you feel possessed of great courage, a profound faith in resurrection or reincarnation, or an impatient desire for a premature date with certain death.

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;

the ethics of graffiti

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White Legs

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...lotus roots carved with clunky holes like a mouse’s drawing of Swiss cheese.

At the Faire

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Carl and Dolly were actors. Dolly was offered the lead in a porno film, but she turned it down.

Gogol vs. Quixote

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“We all come out from Gogol's 'Overcoat'," said Dostoevsky. Well, sometimes, I think otherwise.

smitten in an inner place

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for paul celan take it like an amulet a jewel like a tulip filling up the expanse of green the volatile view from within your thin wrist you write into manuscript for the hand is a map with but grasping still it is but a like two palms like a…

Sunrises and Borrowed Pages

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I'm sitting on the B-line toward Park, and there is a woman with the same black bob as Mad TV's Miss Swan, and she is leaning the whole front of her body against the whole pole in front of me, and even though there is plenty of space around her, she is pressed up…

Hopper

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

Dog

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I’m not the creative type like my friend Bosely, an Irish Setter. I’m a traditionalist. I like to eat exactly at 8:30 a.m. and 6 p.m. I take my bone with me everywhere I go. I will not carry the poop-bag.

Rudolph Had a Dream

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The others fell silent and cast glances back and forth to each other.