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Once upon a time in the days of old
There lived a poor tailor who- I am told-
Did brag that his daughter
Spun straw into gold!
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[SOME PEOPLE ARE BETTER THAN OTHERS.]
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One of the poems in my collection, One Day Tells its Tale to Another, published December 16, 2012. Available on Amazon. My first book!
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Occasionally I will pick up a quarterly—
As a budding poet, to do what I oughterly,
And peruse the pages for helpful examples
That I can crib or use as samples.
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She picked the fish out of the box leaving a pool of mucus and blood slowly congealing on the shelf and dripped it toward the kitchen table. Outside the wind lashed the tops of the poplar trees together and rain sprayed from the barn roof opposite.
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israeli flares light gaza/ casting incandescent nudity/ upon jumbled puzzle piece buildings.
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I feel about the universe/
as Abrahamics are supposed/
to feel about their Yahweh, /their God,
and their Allah:/ I am in fear,
I am in awe, /I am in love.
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She’s changed leaves to emeralds. Worn a shawl of inked birds’ wings.
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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.
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THE man in the tent with the stick points to the chart on the wall and says to us all: the stats point to the end of the war by the end of the fall. A just war, not just oil. Just then Allah's shadow comes over the scene. He's here to stiffen his troops with some …
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...you should pick a VERY OLD millionaire. Very old, and NOT VERY WELL...
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strung from her window to a tree
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Sunday morning beginning with a bang. Accused, found wanting, sentenced.
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Our afterlife depends upon//
what interesting shape
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two roses her eyes
aqua-blue
no, blue-green
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Before she flushes the toilet the world is spinning.
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I keep my love for you in me, /
like the egg of a worm,
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All I wanted to know was: Am I coming close? You could have given me a clue. How was I to know how deep the scar ran? I always thought scars were superficial, but I was young, and willing – what did I know?
What would they have done if they had come
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Eddie meets Sarah Packard, a “college girl” played by Piper Laurie. She walks with a limp, a fact Eddie doesn’t notice at first because she’s sitting down at a diner table in a bus station. She’s alcoholic and writes poetry.
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He was instantly on her, pulling at her nightgown
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When our kids were very young, my wife and I believed it was important to give our children traditions that they could grow up with. One such tradition that we shared each Thanksgiving was to walk down by the cliffs along the ocean. We'd all go, our kids…
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a poem about things exploding/burning down/scattering for miles.
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You were gone, long gone, and I could no longer smell your scent as I walked through the empty house. I couldn't bring myself to unpack the boxes, and they lurked like a forest of overgrown drab Legos.
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We know them just enough/
to recognize them when we find them.
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Twenty-two tornadoes tore through Toronto, spiraling steel and stone to the streets where she stood, texting her best friend.
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Summer nights in Boston, old cast iron streetlights.
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She overcomes herself on the day of the spectacle, clown paint, unmoving amid a rumble of trains and screens, video logs and snapshots, live blogs from phones wet with lotion. This is Tokyo. Facial masks. Bare flaking paint in streams. Stardust.
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