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The Favor

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“You did what?” “Well, the bike is a classic. Getting the proper parts for it just isn’t easy.” “You’ll end up like smeared all over the road doing things like that, and I’ll have to pick you up again. Geez. Watch out for this branch-” Bruce held

A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte

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A woman is fishing in the Seine at the far left of the painting, while time is suspended and light remains. One man plays a trumpet. A half dozen people sit or walk under parasols. Couples stroll and children run or sit or stand beside their p

"Beautiful Boy! I am doomed"

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Beautiful boy! I am doomed / to have attended your presence; / time consumes us, but you / have changed so little...

The Green Bench

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Listen to him barking in the night. Fear shifts on the bed next to you, hogging the covers. Stare at the ceiling and wonder what to do. Forget his birthday. Forget he is forty-two. Forget the phone call from Berkeley twenty-one years…

Fumes

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He was choking on the fumes.

Texas Weather Triptych

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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.

Sounds like leaving

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chains across all the old doors

How It Went Bad With Horsepen

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You should never have believed your daddy when he said a man with half a dog was better off than a man with no dog at all.

Waitress Hopping

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Or, today, when early summer sweated the long pants off every woman under the age of thirty. Did I notice the way you looked at them for one, two, three seconds; then didn't, partial to short-shorts. It was sly how you kept them in your line of sight, alm

Reconstruction

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My favorite lie is that he'd escaped the South Tower before it collapsed. Smoke inhalation erased his way home. Mine's better than mother's version: a stranger hurled herself onto him. The truth is when they stopped search and rescue, mother told father, Go. Even dead, his…

Beach Busker

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I fondly remember those warm, weekend evenings at twilight on the beach. After the frolic of the waves flattened, sending the surfers home and, after the last bait was spent, sending the surfcasters away, I'd set up the little, foldable, 3‘x4', rectangular stage I always…

Excerpts from 'Dispatches from the Front: My Life in NE Portland—diary by JENA RACHEL ROCKWELL (year 08)'

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I'm getting self-righteous here, Dear Reader . . . [hey! wait a second! this is my diary! what are you doing, looking at it, dude! Hit the road! Scram! Vamoose!]

The Misfortune 500

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When I first started out in my working career, I made it the habit of obtaining jobs with companies that were about to go under. (I wrote more books while on unemployment than by any other method.) I was a real bloodhound at sniffing out the pre-dawn od

Drop Water

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slather consciousness

The colour! The power! The vision!

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... and photos of friends from former lives: the Wolfman; Drac; the Mummy; my ungrateful Son; even my gold-digging, coat-tailer ex-wife.

Great Rift Valley

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she shivered in the ceasefire like a virginal nude brought to life.

Catching Forks

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Last night Jim taught me how to catch forks. Meaning, he taught me how to throw them. But he called it catching forks. It was late, and we were low down 3rd street, south of the Bay Bridge, the baseball stadium, all the people and cars, on top of a warehouse. There were a…

What If?

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“Can you adopt if you work for the circus?” I asked her

End of the World

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The world doesn'tend just becauseyou want it to.Bonus poems:The Poet(Series 1)by Darryl PricePoet in a TreeYeah, well, it's not up here either. Although the everything and nothing view is nice. Only because it doesn't have any abandoned cars in it. I'm…

The Night Shore

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Somniloquies rise like the drowned . . .

Confession

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Tomorrow, they'd bury their daughter . . . and still, so many questions. Why would a beautiful fourteen-year-old choose for herself such a horrible, painful death? In life, she appeared the antithesis of suicidal ideation: excellent grades, well-liked in school and…

Spøgelse

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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

Doppio Macchiato

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Sulawesi-Kalosi brews bitter and watery without proper care.

Emerald City Days/Nights

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But Jake doesn't hear anything. He is pure, unfiltered, liquid rage. Jake kicks Rolex dude once, twice, five times in the ribs. On the last kick, there is a snapping sound.

1992, What I Wanted

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To be a backup dancer for Billy Ocean; that's all. I had chubby legs like a baby. They turned out akwardly as if I had broken hips but mum said it was just the way I came out and I would grow out of it.

Ode To My Hangover

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you utter fucker.

The Hound - Part 3

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The bullet split her head in half before she could finish her sentence. Her blood sprayed out onto my face and covered my lips. The taste of life as it suddenly ended.

Center of the Universe

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Epiphenomenal Glider

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Hissing through the opening, the spirits have no place.

Hara-kiri

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unwrapping the gauze from her wrists....