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Redbeard the Communist Pirate

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True facts about Redbeard the communist pirate.

Barbarian(s) Within the Gates

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This writers' conference (sponsored by VQR, which had run its banner ad atop the Fictionaut home page in the summer of 2014, which begins to explain both my attendance and this essay) revealed itself as an apt subject . . .

My Latest Failure

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Jason, the obnoxious host, thrusts his microphone against my nose.

Something, He Wrote

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Mayakovsky wrote...

I-35W

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my world cracked

Ruin

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We keep a ruin of a house, but I suppose it's all right.

The Face in the Oatmeal

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It was uncomfortable to realize people had agendas. That there could be invisible realities.

Summer, 1995.

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I am no different to her, living seven days ahead of myself, looking forward to looking back, as we Irish do so fondly

The Watch

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I packed food for a lifetime, clothes and boots, all the guns, and the audio of our poetry...

Serving Up Apathy

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"Did you want that with the shrimp or the chicken?" the waitress asked. "Uh, shrimp is fine" the old man replied. "I'll be right back with some more bread" the waitress plasters a fake smile on as she walks away. 'What the hell am I doing. I've got a BS i

A Coin, Two Coins

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It hangs unspoken in the sadness he pushes through his harmonica, while his hands work the old, beat-up guitar that tries to be a Gibson for his fingertips.

Odysseus as Superintendent

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No king of Ithaca, but of each/ whining, banging, dust–clouded island/ of focused, physical work

The Dock

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Row, Caps of white, A salted escape beneath reflected light. Brother, remember those old lies? I’m off to sea to make those things right, now.

The Widow Teasdale and the Ineffable Warmth of Personal Services

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Her cash. It smelled like seven-dollar-a-quart gardenia perfume and cave aged cheese—like hope overgrown with mildew.

The Gowanus. Expressway, not canal

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in their hunt for desires not felt on either side of the crescent / called Gowanus

Arcana Magi Zero + Pure - c.8

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Megumi paused for a moment, understanding Mrs. Akamatsu’s concern, but looking back at the Society, she shook her head in rejection.

Silent Noodles, Swimming Pools and the ACLU: What I Learned From Magazines This Week

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You might want to think twice before inviting Henry David Thoreau to your next dinner party...

An Orphan of Fire

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I break your flesh and make music on the harp of your bones.

Lorelei

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It was all things considered a particularly odd sight, which Annalise did not know how to handle.

Nightmares from the Wanted Section

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WANTED: a Muse. Former Special Forces solider turned poet seeking artistic inspiration. Brunettes preferred but blondes will not be turned away; gingers, however, are out of the question. Must have a voice that sounds like money, a self-destructive tem

Tootsie Roll

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I can’t decide whether I want to be buried or cremated when I die.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 21

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Francesco needed a magnifying glass to read her little missives.

Begonia {part four}

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Mezereon smiled his biggest smile at the princess, but to her it looked quite frightening; rows of gleaming, pointed teeth were what she saw, with wispy tendrils of dark gray smoke still wheedling their way out between them.

Again

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Well, it's midnight and here I am drinking alone at the Stick It Inn, watching the clock because that cute, brunette waitress with the home wrecker tits, Julie, is working again, thank ya, Jesus, and she just came over and murmured she'd be off at one and come over and…

17 Things More Important to Americans than Poems, Poets and Poetics:

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Today’s new YouTube kitten;

But It's Been a While

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When I first met Luther he was sitting on the sidewalk, his back pushed up against a vacant storefront wall, thumbing through the “help wanted” section of a few-days-old copy of our local paper and I was moved to offer him a couple of dollars for which he said,…

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…

Three in a Major Key

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One can watch the grass green/ in response. One can watch the world green/ in response.

Marilyn in Ottawa

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I looked away. Why embarrass the Ottawa woman? Why make her uncomfortable? The polite thing is to move on, forget about it. Stare at the sidewalk not yet wet but becoming wet. Be Canadian.

The Pigeon Savior

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The window washer started saving pigeons whose feet were wrapped in fine black thread, the result, he informed me, of picking through trash bins. They are very intelligent, he went on to explain. (Right, trash bins, I thought to myself.) People tend to av