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Midnight Mass

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Mom wraps a bulky-knit scarf around my face and over my mouth. She tightens it into a big knot in back of my collar.

Stretching to Understand

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You looked like someone I didn't want to know. I guess that's why I got in the car that night. My penchant for self-destruction was aroused by your black nail polish and the lavender circles under your eyes. You looked like someone that could hurt me, yeah, that's why I got…

Natural Histories I

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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.

once upon a time in Sumeria (2)

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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 …

How Would Jesus Drive?

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Contemporary persecution of Christians takes on milder forms of torture like having to explain away something Pat Robertson said, or constantly having to hear about Fred Phelps picketing funerals because he happens to hate homosexuals.

en/core

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(vogued.)

SERVICE

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a girl with wolves, dogs and a bear

Flush

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"Nice one, sir," the toilet said.

Under The Tree

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There were echoes all around them, their shadows delirious and only existed in short spurts under the breath of the streetlights. They danced as their cigarettes leaked calligraphy across the night sky and she tried to trace it with her finger. He asked her what it said…

Wink

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It's just another night in the old city, perched in the skeletal radio tower with my collection of telescopes

Mosaic

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MOSAIC Your eyes coal-rimmed, busted, burned by betrayal. You and I, knee to knuckle, skinny with disorders and blurred around our edges. Challenged by our experience and the ash of past-love dusting the grate, the state, the…

The Assistant

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The Assistant is lost again in a grid city. Again she feels disconnected from the world. Where she is the sound has been switched off.

Real Talk – A Ghost Story

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Tunnel hobos, all hootched up high, think a sign's all about super powers, mind reading, clairvoyance, dig?

The Hater

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You look at people and despise them all.

Hide & Seek

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I have never seen doubt on the face of a Roman general,' he said, ‘but when you looked at me and said “I know”…that was a certainty I'd never encontered. You have crossed the Acheron twice.'

My Piper Laurie

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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.

Seasonal Poem

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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!

When technology fails

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But Jeffrey was flabbergasted and couldn’t explain to the officer why he was speeding. All he could manage to get out as an attack of Tourette syndrome hit were nasty, flamboyant obscenities. The Alabama state trooper wasn’t amused.

Three Short Poems

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no more trying to keep / the peace, no more trying / to keep every person happy. / Just this: no more.

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.3 - c.2

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Sora rubbed her neck as Azure gave her attention. She did not know where to begin, thinking about what to say first.

My Name is William Hurt and I Am a Movie Star

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Not to sound too ridiculous, but Hurt was giving me the hurt, and it felt good.

An Obituary of Comedy: The Life and Times of Munnu Shahbaz Kalandar Khan

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Sir Reginald Lionel Windsworth described the match in Englishmen's Lahore Gazette as, "A plethora of mistakes and complete absence of human sense."

Dozen

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strung from her window to a tree

Bloody Vodka

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Broken glass attacks me

Moony Star Moony Star

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a lost children…

Seeking...

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I'm subconsciously a sucker for guys who are no good for my self-esteem. Or waistline.

Where They Have to Take You In

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Sunday morning beginning with a bang. Accused, found wanting, sentenced.

RINSE AND OXIDATION

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...listening to the ache of errs our mouths had become.

Residual

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Our afterlife depends upon// what interesting shape

from: The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars

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I got on the Greyhound Bus at 11 a.m. and sat by myself staring out the window. I could see the reflection of my own dark beard in the window, a 27 year-old man with a huge poem bursting my heart, gasping to get out into the bright lit-up world out there,