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The Color of Sleep

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Have you ever seen a body of words give birth to a paragraph? I won't lie. It's a little gross. But quite moving. First there is the biology of reproduction. A blackbird living in an electric guitar, for instance, and its inexplicable urge to mate with an elephant.…

Sparks Beneath the Surface

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If I should wake/ before I die,/ just shoot me through/ the one good eye.

The Yellow Room

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...the knives she laid out on the porch before her husband left her, washed and dried, set neatly by copper pennies.

I Want You

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to have something, but I don't think you need anything from me. There are poems that belong in your hair and no one else's. They should be like stars that only appear every one thousand years or so, then can only be seen when you are…

Version - 2.0

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Pale like a tracing of a memory

Horowitch and Twaddle

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"...does the nurse, doctor or veterinarian experience greater sexual satisfaction than say the housewife in DesMoines or the sixth grade English teacher in Passaic?"

Novel excerpt: "Home Cure"

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He picked up the bottle of gin, looked at it. "Not a lot left," he said. "There's enough," she replied. She took the bottle and lifted it to her lips. "Are you ready?" she asked. "For what?" "You'll see."

just not working

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some days you wake up/ to feel horror/ wrapped beneath your blanket./

The Catcher and the Caught

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Like the swift night-black blue of a cormorant as it suddenly dips into a rush of white cold water,eyeing its possible food, we too sweepdown on what we think we see, rising wet sometimes with the reward,or hapless, dripping, we try again.

Myra's Middle Name

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Maybe our whole generation is going to hell, but I’m not getting any younger or better looking. Life’s too short for the missionary position.

Wheelbarrow

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He was ready for the rub. Tense. She could always tell. The legs, the shuffles. He had to be frantic before he would come to her, his own wife. Vanity, fright. She could read him like a book open on the table, turn his pages the way a fish flakes. "It's comfort night,…

Lotus-eaters

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empty wine bottles, and a single abandoned boot

There's A Place I Know

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“Reminds me of my safari in Africa. Somebody forgot the corkscrew and for several days we had to live on nothing but food and water."- W.C. Fields Around the next corner is a dark green door a dark…

Bogart Generations

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Great Uncle did stunts in silents and shot a man in a cowboy one-reeler, then vanished to the hills like Roy Earle in High Sierra.

Houses Are Havens and the Outside Plans Your Destruction

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The first of the fires that started by the river in the abandoned mills were so hot they burned white and pale blue

The Boyfriend

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As a boyfriend, he knows that such A.D.D. insensitivity could be considered a major liability in the eyes of most girlfriends, including his.

Prophetstown

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The elders of the town will tell you that as soon the prophet mill arrived everything went to Hell. Before the process was streamlined, prophets used to be grown organically in the community. They popped up only where the ground was tilled and a prayer was planted. They…

Homeless

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blueberry tea and vodka on a Friday night

Lanyards

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theme songs for concentration camps!?

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…

Weight

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We flew./ In my dreams, I can fly.

Gasoline

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Her hair’s the color of LA at night On such occasions when the Santa Anas Have left the hills bone-dry and burning bright

Keeping watch

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The machines are alive but she is not. The pads keep her face from being irritated but my mind isn't so lucky."Let me GO!" she cries....at least that's what I hear. They are waiting for permission for her to go. Eager hesitation best describes the tense…

Vitamin D

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I caught her a-feasting with her eyes and smilin' at that Jesus- haired Waffle House cook, Dennis Roy, again and I said, “Merlene, my tiny kitty-kat, they's no reason to carry no torch for him ‘cause he may not be with us very long ‘cause, if you notice, they's no…

Bestiary

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A woman posted a story on Fictionaut about discovering that her husband was a werewolf.

once upon a time in Sumeria (2)

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THE man in the tent with the stick points to the chart on the wall and says to us all: the stats point to the end of the war by the end of the fall. A just war, not just oil. Just then Allah's shadow comes over the scene. He's here to stiffen his troops with some …

Who's There?

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The old man sat in the run-down shack, nursing his lobol-weed tea, and cursing the bitter cold wind outside.

Running In My Veins

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They say that inside the veins of every Bohemian lies an entire army of dead alcoholics. I suppose this is true of me too.

A Night In a String Of Long Nights

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Whatever innocence Michelle had brought to the game was long gone, even the part where she dreamed she was the star of a righteous, asskicking movie.

Shatters

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She collects slowly The pieces Each one Heavy with grief Precious and Also bitter