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All Seeing

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Our Core Values define evil as the concealment of information. And those who conceal information are evil.

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;

Now

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‘Miguel! A pint of Guinness, please!' I might as well have asked for his mother's immortal soul. A smile as benign as a stiletto. But he served a clean and tidy pint.

The Case of the Phantom Paperclip

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I was sitting on the steps in the entryway to our apartment building taking off my running shoes when I spotted a paperclip on the floor. I assumed it had fallen from the mail that my wife had just taken from our mailbox. Once my shoes were removed, I went down to pick…

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.

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…

A DEBT

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A rose and two dollars. Where did they come from? I didn't know anyone who had visited my parents' grave recently, yet that evening I saw a white rose on my mother's side and two bucks on my father's. I took the money and placed my own flowers with the rose. It had to have…

Hopper

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

Porch

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“Emerald Leaf Borers, Dutch Elm Disease and Gypsy Moths blow through here like the Plagues of Egypt,” said Rafe, sipping from his glass of Parallel 44 wine. “You'd think we'd get more than a few days of good weather for all the parasites we feed.” …

Lottery Ticket

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  Tony sat down in the hotel room with his back against the wall. He had a handsome face, with three-day stubble growing from it, his pupils very large as if frightened by something, or from deep thought. In his hand, was the winning lottery, Periodically he would get up…

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

A CAPITAL TIME FOR TWEETING, PLUS WHEN TO SHOOT A MOOSE

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“Buy Shoes On Wednesday and Tweet at 4:00” is a new advice book which tells the reader the best possible time to get everything done, from flossing ones teeth to visiting Zanzibar. As a public service, I've used the information provided in that book to create an…

Toweka: The Vanishing Elephant

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The elephant kept popping in and out of the savannah--which is to say, in and out of existence. It was an African bush elephant, which made this trick even more impressive.

Keep Your Man Crazy in Love the Redbook Way

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You are like gasoline on the fire of my desire–you send me higher and higher into paroxysms of earth-shaking erotic explosions. Remember–the “light” catfood is the kind in the turquoise bag.

Between

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You are a space-walker and a time-traveler...

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…

Key West with Poo and Company

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Excerpt from Flamingo …

If You Have to Have an Ism

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This is a lady who never got a break.

It's a Wonderful Life

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My wife is making lunch. I suggest leftover pizza. We are going over to the neighbor’s house for pizza tonight, my wife says. I tell her that’s okay. I like pizza.

Oh, Little Bird, You Send Me

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Who are all these rough looking people, hanging over me, itching me with their shaggy, grapevine arms? Like twisting, dangling down, painted, cloth Gargoyles on a quickly coming apart, dried up rope? It's always been the same old perch to view from. You wanted to know…

A Night Ride With the Conservative Poetry Enforcers

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We've got our gang colors on because we're out for retribution. T.S. Eliot made an appearance at a writer's conference on De-Privileging the Dead White Male last night, and the head of a low-residency poetry program tossed hot green tea on him.

Reflections Over Jalpeños

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It seemed like only yesterday that she was making sure to remember bottles for Hunter and now he was eating regular adult food, and they were looking into tutors for next year, and Hunter was nearly four. Her runty Hunty umpkins was going to be four.

bird

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Your mother is a great and dying bird. Once, she tended her grand feathered nest. Once, she preened.

Baking Bread

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the champagne foam cascades like cherry blossom ensnared in the first gales of spring

whip

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under a laughing moon

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…

Three as She Lay Sleeping

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As I watched her sleep, I saw gentle frost and sun on crystal.

Sometimes the bear eats you...

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...something darkly malevolent looming above him...

A Poet in a Coffeeshop in the Motherfucking Nineties

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Look at her. She doesn't want to be here. The kiss and “wouldn't miss it for the world” was as empty as her crossed arms, crossed legs, and jittery foot were loaded. She attacked the foam of her latte with a tiny red straw. I wanted to scream. Complain about the…