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Low On the Hog

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Living lower on the hog than anticipated lower on the hog than previously expected lower on the hog than desired Living on the underside of the hog belly pretty much bouncing on the ground beneath the aforementioned hog belly Living clos

Cat On A Hot Tin Roof

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Cat's ass was on fire. The roof was scorching hot. Her clothes were in a pile by the door that led to the roof. She was sitting next to the ventilation duct, her hands outstretched behind her, her knees bent before her. Jim was standing in front of…

Hometown News: Newsprint Jesus (part 1)

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I had enough judgment, anger and vengefulness from the people around me in the steel town of Pueblo, Colorado, where I was growing up. I didn’t need more from my God.

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 …

Bloody Vodka

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Broken glass attacks me

Zombies to Mars

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Perseid meteors fly past their ship like cosmic fire-wasps.

Winter's Presence 2010

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A short triangular plastic shovels into the/White plastic container filled with topaz crystal-like/Salt granulars. Scratchy sandy sounds echo.

Jackpot

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Lucky for mama, he doesn't like for his women to work.

Key Tone Deficiency

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Beware superfluous color

Smoke and Stars

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as distant lights all must shiver before joining in a Milky Way river

Back in the Shower

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Naked, we stood in my shower. When she kicked my tool, I noticed she had a toe ring.

Haiku Haiku, Fattened Feral Kittens, Hobgoblin Test

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and watch the bird play and squirrel play/ and the twitching of cottontail noses

Bye-bye Love

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Barbie wore only her clear pink heels...

Boomer Tunes Pop Quiz

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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…

Fa La La La La

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A pinprick breaks the black/ and pins the spin of constellations/ around its still point.

Once upon a time.

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"Tell me a story."

where horses stood ground

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Where horses once were tethered grows their grass . . .

Still Life (55 words)

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It wasn't so much the softness of the bed that kept her from sleep, or the pungent bleach-scent of the unfamiliar sheets, but the lack of her clock's familiar tick, tick, tick. Or was it a missing heartbeat? Awake, she watched his chest. On the table, an empty pill …

Helene

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My little friend is no bigger than a minute. An even five feet tall, if that.

I Hate You

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go ahead stick one more morsel into that piehole

Sri Radha Afternoons

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We were wild, medieval magpies, sweaty and sweet and selfish; and so much more than we were before I lit that first stick of spice,

The Jade Rabbit, Chapter One

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Even when the sun is gone and things get dark, usually the moon comes to reflect some light of hope until a new dawn can emerge

Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa is Trying to Say Something to His Mother

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The songs that she used to sing to him still dance in his head while he wrangles equations. The stars in the cosmos spell out her name.

Air Conditioning Bill

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The last night, I shivered in bed until three a.m., the blankets wouldn’t work, or the socks, or my tears, but I reassured my heart that my next love would be warmer. 
He was. 
And our air conditioning bill was so high we could’t afford it.

Point of Grace

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Say the world is a smudged charcoal drawing. Slit from its frame, smuggled out of the Vatican. Don't say it couldn't happen. Who would know.

My Poetic Nemesis

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Except for the bathroom stalls—you know the one that goes “Here I sit all broken-hearted”—the only poetry in the house is composed by Hazel, recited to her fawning sycophants.

Mercy Mercy Mercy

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When I was young and self-born in religion my aunts, uninterested in being washed in the Blood of Christ, called me Preacher Boy. I didn't pay them any attention. It was fine by me, I said, if they wanted to sit around and paint their toenails . . .

12.22.12

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No jagged bits of crust were thrust up/ through the prairie’s black gumbo/ to give us cataclysmic mountain views.

The Caganer

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Jaume jumped up from the bar, a wide smile across his face. He hugged his old friend and planted a kiss on his wife's cheeks. He was buzzing from the chance encounter, marveling how life had brought them together after all these years. There had to be a r

Working things out in my head

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A shot in the dark and everything goes black. It's as if the story never happened.