1617 2 1
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Now you are a raving bare-forked fool madman with nothing.
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1617 7 7
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A new philosophy stirs in its surgery.
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1617 7 9
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I don't know where to start. We're gaining flight. Did you seeanybody we know? The trees are always a concern. I don't thinkI know how to stop this thing from crashing into parked cars,that is if we live. You can say it was all on a stupid dare. They don't have to know…
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1617 1 1
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“We know you’re in there, motherfucker. Step out, slowly, and we might keep you fit for an open casket funeral."
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1617 2 2
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1616 9 7
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in the much more terrorizing display/
of male pattern stupidity//
as seen so often on TV/
in the House and at Fox News.
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1616 19 11
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1616 8 3
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Every ten days, the Decadent Sisters assembled for dinner. Although raised together, they were each very different...
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1616 13 12
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My eyes hold my mother. It's not easy being human she tells me. She always told me. Sure, but the stories are lovely. We all know that. We generate the tales, tell the tales, kiss our children. Live on in their eyes, though, don't…
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1615 0 0
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Throughout breakfast Quebec kept watching this investor fellow, John Lytle. She tried remembering something about him, about when they'd first met. Her first impressions were very nearly always correct. But all she could bring to memory now was that it
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1615 0 1
|
Chet Baker mourns for you, New Coke mourns for you, Roddy Piper mourns for you, 8-track cassettes of Humble Pie and Bachman Turner Overdrive mourn for you
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1615 2 1
|
I ran for the car, heart pounding in my chest, feverish. I jerked the door open and dropped into the seat of the Audi S5. The ignition fired and the car purred to life. I dropped it into gear and hit the gas, tires spinning, gravel spraying. The treads caught on the hot …
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1615 3 2
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I cut myself. Often. The bloodslice like thin lips parted/in prayer.
life’s color drained to ashen/as the old world spins, pirouettes/like a circus dog on the back/of a galloping horse.
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1615 4 2
|
Charles the Bold is holding a pen.
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1615 11 8
|
“The beginning was good. That’s what he likes. The moment when you’re driving in the open air and your hair is flying and your skirt is whipping up around your knees, and he’s smoking, of all things, and happy and looking at you."
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1615 4 3
|
Her back turned, she wanders off
searching for the way home
wringing her hands,
trying to think, but thoughts
evade her.
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1615 1 1
|
I never could run properly. It’s kinda hard when you’ve got scales all over your body and a big fat tail that gets in the way.
|
1615 4 4
|
unwrapping
the gauze from her wrists....
|
1615 17 11
|
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1615 7 5
|
One day it was boring / to be alive.
|
1614 5 4
|
Facebook just hit me with an ad for coping with memory loss, probably because I just turned 63. As far as my favorite social media site is concerned, I am now an Old Lady. When I asked my Facebook pals who are also Seniors what kind of promotions have been turning up…
|
1614 4 4
|
I want to ask him why not now, right here on the living room floor when Rosie is out for the day. Instead, I suggest Sunday afternoon. I can make grilled cheese sandwiches and we'll eat them on the veranda. I'll take off my tennis skirt and unbutton my...
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1614 5 2
|
When a multinational big box furniture store opened just off the expressway outside the city selling all the same products at greatly reduced prices, they contemplated the possibility of closing their store.
|
1614 7 3
|
I sat in the dark, mashing damp sand like clumps of brown sugar into my palm while the heavy Gulf air blew my hair into ropes. Sometimes I worried that I was unable to need people, but, as much as the thought upset me, I couldn't make myself truly want t
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1614 6 5
|
They acquire him in a bar that is famous for its shipwrecks.
|
1614 13 9
|
I. he leans his messy head against the walland contemplates his wild mistakeshe discovers a nest of red spidersoutside his rotting basement doorhe watches television in his socksand…
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1614 10 7
|
I wander toward the midnight dock
a neon sine curve stabs my eyes
|
1613 14 8
|
an undercurrent of fear is running through my community
|
1613 0 0
|
The moon hung in the sky, round and pale, under cover of some wispy clouds.
|
1613 2 1
|
my maddening pyromaniac,/ you're burning up my heart/ so open up your broad-toothed mouth/ and let me pour the ashes in.
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