1682 6 0
|
We may not be capable of even trying to appreciate the fact of mortality until we are somewhat older—let's say 18 years old. But, from the age of 18 until we die—and die we will; we know that—we have the opportunity to spend some time thinking abou
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1682 11 7
|
No bustling inside
No extruded amber
Wings onyx straight jackets
A low hum of displeasure.
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1681 7 7
|
As spilled on a sandy Corona del Mar beach/both in moonlight and starlight so lovely/and strangely sad as if receding still
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1681 1 2
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["GET UP, GET GET, GET DOWN ... 9-11'S A JOKE IN *your* TOWN!"]
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1681 6 3
|
i thirst always
for that poetic mouthful
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1681 8 7
|
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1681 1 1
|
King's splendid stronghold Pressing down the earth below Broken by the grass
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1681 2 0
|
I know you,
ladies and gentlemen
We see the near future
through you
Your factual face
as you sit indoors
Youthless
In your ordinary chair
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1681 14 12
|
You call your wife. “Do you see what I see?” you ask.
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1681 6 5
|
She’s not coming today. She didn’t come yesterday either.
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1681 3 2
|
He asked me if I was going to buy Valentine's for the office this year, and I shook my head. We were in the dollar store, February 13, and I could get a box of twenty kids' Valentines with last year's favourite cartoon…
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1681 6 4
|
This Tippy’s name was Cheryl — something both of them were so far not committing to paper or saying. Unusual in a salesman, she thought. He is insincere and intends to sell her something.
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1680 2 1
|
"For several days thinking they had found a dead man’s boot beside the highway..."
|
1680 7 0
|
On the way to the drinking fountain, Elysia Martin, a third grader at St. Michael's Parochial School, heard a voice calling her name. When she turned toward the white plaster statue of the Virgin Mary that sat between twin hedges in the rose garden, she
|
1680 14 8
|
Little tech puppies, well compensated for code/
that outsourced laborers will realize in supercheap,/
superchipped gewgaws, sip artisan beers
|
1680 5 4
|
My old buddy Snoop Dogg saunters into the room, and we go through a handshake routine that takes over ten minutes, ending with double-backflips and some brotherly penis swordplay.
|
1680 20 11
|
The nearsighted world/
puts on its lenses
|
1680 5 3
|
"and I turned to you, at some joke we shared,
and saw winter ease its hand,"
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1680 4 4
|
I considered kissing Christian. It wouldn’t be terrible. I mean, it might be terrible, but it wouldn’t be awful. His teeth were a little crooked but he didn’t smell or anything.
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1680 23 12
|
We know them just enough/
to recognize them when we find them.
|
1680 1 1
|
Tension slipped from my grip on the dagger as my legs and faith fell apart.
|
1680 8 6
|
My ex-girlfriends live in a pastel-drenched cabin on the edge of a hemlock forest in Canada somewhere,
|
1679 10 6
|
If you're a Boomer, your brain is teaming with decades-old Pop tunes that you just can't forget. The real reason you can never remember where you put your keys? Too many of your brain cells are clinging to every last lyric to “Fire and Rain,” “Free…
|
1679 6 5
|
The boy heard loud barks and squeals, climbed on a chair, and looked out the window at the barnyard and the faded blood red barn.
|
1679 9 6
|
THIS is what happened — the dead went into remission. Dated may 10 2010. Or it could have been some other day. They were going to be restored later. That's what we were being told. The dead were being given stones to mark their remission. They were getting…
|
1679 5 5
|
if it were a child/ it would be in first grade this year
|
1679 2 2
|
I look down at my free of clothing genitalia and curiously note that the testicles sprout from above my erect penis, and my scrotum is so taut, hard and shriveled as to conjure squished images of a gigantic pink peanut.
|
1679 0 0
|
Rosea plays a bohemian plainsong for the cosmonauts among us, while her fuzzy apple hips spit glitter, spin strobes: pink shades of pantyline flicker; lip-licked neon hues scrape strings in B sharp, a gloomy clue.
|
1679 0 0
|
Late spring, summer before cancer. Frank drove Max and his pal Jason to Cincinnati for their first rock show. Less Than Jake at Bogart's. A two-hour drive for ska-punk.
|
1679 10 4
|
A Parody of Keats I stood at silent thought upon a clump Of nettles, swaying in the od'rous air- That blew from my own trousers, by the dump; That it had not blown more lent me despair. The dulcet horn gave melody, rare…
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