1577 5 4
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The war they wage fills everything with holes.
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Closed gate without fences
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I dreamt once
a child’s drawing of a house
all scribbly black crayon
swayback roof crooked
chimney. God, do you
remember how cold it was
that night?
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He reached into the bag on the table and pulled out a ten inch record, sleeved in brown paper, with a circle cut out to display the label information. He handled it delicately, like a fresh egg.
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1577 1 1
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On that balcony, on every other day, she practised her other, more worldly religion - gardening, specifically sunflowers.
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She said “I have to go”, he answered with his eyes “Don't” and they stepped closer to each other in the kitchen, a step on the tiled floor, the remnants of their tea cold on the counter top.
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Your favorite nickname
existed only in the bright red
cherry smoldering
at the end of your smoke.
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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, …
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The man's dog slipped away one night. He left soon after.
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“I would like to keep my head, at least for a few more nights. Didn't you say we were gonna have sex one of these days? Isn't that in the manual?”
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I stole forth dimly in the dripping pause
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"You look awfully familiar," said one of the corrupt oil company execs to the dark-haired man with the sunglasses and big sideburns.
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I don’t know what to do with all this money flowing from my books.
It’s burning a hole in my literary pocket.
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There is truth you can’t escape or say any other way and expect it still to be truth.
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The sighs of the nearby shore came to me through an open window.Wave after gentle wave caressed her broad, sand crusted skin. Mesmerized, I lay still.The in out sound of breathing now filled the room.Your warmth enveloping me like the satin…
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his mother brought him to me/ when he was very young/ maybe a few months old,/ born in arizona july.
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When he smashed his plate in my lap, the dog hung around, licking my wrist and hoping that he would get some milk, too. With my luck, he'd jump in the pool, getting grass clippings all over the edge. My nails were sharp that day, I had to cut them, and I did while…
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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.
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my molars are dancing, tekka-tekking to the strung-out paint can groove of my heart.
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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.
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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
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Can you see the rut? Can you dig your fingers into the flesh?
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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.
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In the panic following news of my motorcycle crash, my honey fled the house without coat or wallet, and now, nearly midnight, we don’t even have cab fare home.
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Remembering Ginsberg
who howled through just about everybody's idea of the real weirdo poet
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Saturday morning, and I’m pushing the old truck a little, chasing retreating bands of cloud shadows along a winding hilltop road.
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The Girl with a typewriter mouthhas a body like a single sheet of blank white paper. I wasobsessed with the Beatles, she tellsme. Well, there are worse things to beobsessed with, I tell her. No, shesays, I mean REALLY obsessed. Oh,is all I can think to reply to…
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I smoked my cigarro under his watchful eye. We were never able to make too much conversation even when I was teaching him at Educenter. Now that David had opened his own school, Evert had come to learn with him because it was much more affordable, but he
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