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Greyhound

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Published in Exquisite CorpseI…

Black Mariah

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The war they wage fills everything with holes.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 6

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Sure my man. Show me the token I’ll show you the slice.

I Wonder About the Trees

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I stole forth dimly in the dripping pause

On The Stoop

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The leaves were meaningless because they were no longer connected to the trees.

perfectly...fine...

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You left for the glittery wild of West Hollywood. I guess L.A.'s off-limits now. My heart goes fucking tachy when I drive over Kellogg Hill past Forest Lawn and see the skyline glowing through the rainbow haze of sunset. You're out there, out in the…

Zoo

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It's London Zoo and ten minutes to closing time. The clock walks in and out of cages. I love you baby when you laugh like that at monkeys.Penguin and pelican, wing in wing, approaching. It's some bird act, I know. Two birds from nowhere. One flies, one walks.The zoo…

Population Of

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Dominic would show them all. That stupid "Welcome to Bessemer" sign was his. It was the pride of the whole damn town. No other target would do.It was the dead of night, and Dominic rode his bike to the town line. He briefly considered spray painting something vulgar over…

We Loved We Laughed We Cried

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My wife broke the news to me. She enjoyed it, too, I'm certain of that. It was a juicy piece of gossip.

Wounded Animal Songbook

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I pull into the parking lot and see a group of roosters squawking and trying to overturn an ‘87 Pontiac Bonneville that's caught fire. They're pouring whiskey down their throats. They're weeping over a bag of economy sized frozen breast fillets.

Wire

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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."

STILL NO WORD ON WHAT HAPPENED TO THE CREATURE'S GOLDFISH

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Innocent victims know their tonsils. Or know the sound of their forceful removal. Their mangled beauty is the grain that has gracefully substituted all the limb-hacking. The creature used to have a friend whose gestures were very harmless, …

Honoring Heritage

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salmon sits gentler on my palate

Did You Get Two

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“106 more miles,” she said.

The White Dogs Of West Emerald Street

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I wondered if Mr. Slane even knew/ how many dogs he owned

Cousin

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“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."

Meteor Shower

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A rain of stones . . .

Doctor Eyepatch

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That contraption he’d invited her to pedal, somebody oughta market one of those. The closer you got the harder it got, and her feet kept slipping off the pedals. It was maddening.

Lick the Empire (ELECTRIC DELIRIUM 1.3)

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Can you see the rut? Can you dig your fingers into the flesh?

Ornithology

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Harpo was there with his wife. Harpo’s girlfriend came up behind the couch where I was sitting, and I ran my hand up her leg underneath her dress.

Valentine

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"His middle name is Valentine, and when asked about it, he isn't sure why."

Echoes

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...Heroin. It helped them get through the tricks and sucked up their flesh.

The Taste in My Mouth

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whose spit is this?

The Ghosts in the Meeting

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No one had told the newer tenants that the dead would be given votes, and they were in an uproar: it wasn’t legal; it wasn’t fair; it was creepy.

A Breviary

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Whistle for silence.

Animal Shadows

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One day when they were sitting on the curb together at 4th Street and Mendocino Avenue in Santa Rosa and Joe was calling out to passers by in a singsong voice, “Spare change for cigs,” she had persuaded them that they should try to join the circus.

Profiling Robert Allen Zimmerman

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Since when has it become a crime to walk about a neighbourhood? No one will ever convince me that it 's okay to follow, harass, or approach any unarmed person with a gun and shoot them.

tweaker

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my molars are dancing, tekka-tekking to the strung-out paint can groove of my heart.

Walking To Gibraltar, Chapter 14: In Which 500 Fucking Words Appear

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This was before the cancer, years before. He did this every day: up at five, before Astrid and Max. Four cups of coffee in the machine. A bowl of granola. Five hundred words. Five hundred words no matter goddamn what. Five hundred words on Sunday and Chri

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.