1643 2 1
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Naked Lady? I know that from somewhere. Then he remembered. That's what they called those old 1930's and 40's Conn saxophones, Naked Ladies. How would Smith know that?
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1643 0 0
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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.'
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1643 10 8
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I bit her ear and /
it was burnt toast
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1643 1 0
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“It is not your shoes the Americans complained about!” Roberto yelled, sitting behind his desk, cigar smoke curling around his purple face. “It is your UNDERWEAR!”
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1643 4 3
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I'd never seen a dead person before, let alone one that was living just
seconds earlier.
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1643 3 2
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Her head was free from restraint...
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1643 5 4
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Published writers will tell you that the most important thing you can do as a beginning writer is to know your markets! So this month, we'll talk about two of the markets open to you and your riveting but as yet unpublished prose -- Fling Magazine and Clubhouse…
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1643 4 5
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The last time Cyrus rode in a train’s passenger car, he came home a dead man.
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1643 17 7
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a song jolts my memory . . .
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1643 5 4
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I said, “That bird is hungry.”
The sparrow was eying both of us
At our separate outside café tables
As it hopped around looking for crumbs.
Then it would look up at us
Expectantly.
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1643 0 0
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Over the stained fence the spectres flew and that is where the rain was turning colder and colder in the time when the trees had become mostly bare.
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1643 13 8
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I worry for the daffodils/
and there optimistic yellow bursts./
I worry for the over-eager clover,//
prodigious green on crepe myrtles,/
even for the early green of nut grass.
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1643 5 4
|
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,
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1643 12 7
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Essences of bull and bison,//
stag and horse, illuminate/
the stony underground.
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1643 7 7
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They blew in the doorway of the café at the French Hotel like two sparrows chasing each other. Their wings down in the dust, unheeding any danger in their hunger for each other. I knew the man who was about to become her husband, so maybe this was her las
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1643 6 4
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. . . laughter and madness.
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1643 8 0
|
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1643 9 4
|
William Shakespeare (a surname that meant "wanker" back in the day, by the way)
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1643 2 1
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He finished the omelet and started in on the short stack. He drowned the cakes in syrup.
-Never can have enough syrup.
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1643 5 1
|
I want you closeI want to feel youinside me,softening me untilmy borders are blurredand I'm hardly breathing,my heart swellingso big itbrings me to my knees,I want to know thepain of losing youeach time youclose your eyes andgo to sleep anddream of someone else,I want to…
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1643 7 1
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My mother was Irish as Paddy's pig. So all her family. Lovely people they were. Also, seldom seen among the Folk; stone cold sober. My father's family; Bavarian German. Bavaria's the wrong side of the German tracks. Frankfort people laugh at Bavarians as people in…
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1643 6 5
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In your mouth is the attic studio
Where your father’s brushes lie wet with water
|
1643 5 4
|
...listening to the ache of errs our mouths had become.
|
1643 3 1
|
I’m secretly hoping for a huge bouquet, a fruit basket, a pickle jar of urine in a lunch bag on my doorstep, even.
|
1642 9 4
|
Once upon a time there was a Vietnamese restaurant. And then there were two, and four, and eight...
|
1642 4 5
|
the beeps, rhythmic,
tell us that you're still with us
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1642 4 1
|
Third time that day, he was on me. On me like bees to a flower (or flies on shit, he'd correct me, no doubt). Sucking sweet nectar and breathing that breath — damn that breath — 'round my head, in my ear, pestering, bugging, like a bee he annoyed me.
B
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1642 8 5
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Not believing enough in God he was made unfortunate. Neither cursed nor damned; merely little things. Missing rides, running out of toilet paper, showing up late. Until, suspecting someone he had overlooked, he chose a God. The wrong One it transpired. Things…
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1642 5 5
|
awoke in confusion, fear and hurt never seen before that day a year past
|
1642 5 3
|
She came to my house late that last night and shucked off her things and we slow-danced to Cruisin' as beaded rainwater slid off her black hair to the floor. She smiled an almost quizzical smile as she drank me there with her eyes, as if I was some…
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