1560 3 3
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I am speeding on the highway at 2AM because no one is here...
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1560 3 1
|
He came to a spot on the edge of the strawberry fields where he liked to sit with his brother and watch the turkey buzzards circle overhead
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1560 1 1
|
There is no cement stronger than the one holding a miserable couple together.
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1560 3 2
|
“Life is on life’s terms,” she told me once. Her arm, wrapped in clear cellophane, was freshly adorned with a green-pigmented sand-dollar: a living shell.
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1560 9 6
|
I guess at the end you’re only
looking forward. Or upward actually,
since you can only lie there on your back
looking upward, straight ahead toward infinity,
your mouth in a grimace, with the ghostly
pink lips peeled back from the teeth.
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1560 6 5
|
What a nation!
First we lost our money
Now we’ve lost our funny
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1560 5 5
|
We pull up chairs. I breathe in her Bath and Body Works vanilla, read her paper slowly and aloud because the ears catch what the eyes miss. Her sentences are awkward, stilted.
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1560 5 4
|
The coin, so little, the watch chain, the youth, the fading softening speech, each hand and finger, the panic modeled on your own eyes, the ashtray, certain stumps along the way, the long distance, the odd feather, the jazz rope gone,…
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1560 5 2
|
Hissing through the opening, the spirits have no place.
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1560 3 1
|
When our body falters, deny us rest.
When our minds crack under the strain, forbid us sanity.
When we are too tired to fight give us war.
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1560 2 1
|
Are you a hostile person who gets into trouble when you express your anger? Would you like to annoy the hell out of people and get away with it?
|
1560 4 2
|
You want to get laid talking socks
|
1560 3 1
|
"seventy five degrees longitude
submerged
in holy rivers
out of my mind emerge
anointed paramahamsas"
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1560 7 5
|
I am no different to her, living seven days ahead
of myself, looking forward to looking back,
as we Irish do so fondly
|
1559 8 7
|
First he wrote it in wet cement at the intersection:
“Tad Loves Kimberley,”
with a big heart around it.
He was real proud, you could see.
But then later on that year, the graffiti began
appearing everywhere, on all the store walls:
“Kimberle
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1559 3 3
|
They look like giant golden raindrops, or flying saucers, or peculiar fish out of their element
|
1559 5 4
|
Outside it’s still raining. We’ve gone through three cans of Guinness each. I’m waiting for drunkenness to germinate so that I can take him home and fondle what I imagine will be a very slim dick. A Slim Jim. When I chuckle to myself, he thinks I’m still
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1559 7 6
|
Marie was on the roof. The deck, with its cool concrete pavers and faded cedar Adirondack chairs, was one of the reasons she and Harold had bought their condo in this building. The only ugly part of the roof was the chain-link fence along its edge; soon after they moved…
|
1559 3 2
|
When we arriveand are met by strange friendsstrange like the fog on the redreed mudflatsthat span the low tide around Incheon -When we arrivecarrying so much we will not needlike the bus they hire to take us through the darksix people to fill so much more space - When…
|
1559 12 10
|
What did it mean? What would a psychologist say? Oh, who cares. In my opinion, we ask why, what, when, where, and how too often.
|
1559 3 2
|
She flew through the air, linen skirt billowing around her. Below, her buckled bicycle was taking a different route. Less aerodynamic than she, its trajectory was brief, crashing into the ditch. Elspeth kept on flying. Time slowed, and expanded
|
1559 11 10
|
That won’t kill me, will it? I asked. Maybe, the doctor said.
|
1559 5 0
|
I made her a mix tape. It was revolutionary. Twenty-two songs she had to hear at least once in her life. I even drew some trippy drug-like designs on the label of the CD to make it seem more real. It was the ocean and the sun and every body of land balled up…
|
1559 10 9
|
Margaret will take her seven away from his raging Irish hammers slurry Saturday night honks smashing red eyes. They'll board a secret train countryside bound where they sing the songs of her own dead Mam who lived poor in the world but…
|
1559 5 3
|
Buyers of freelance writing have a well-deserved reputation for responding slowly, thereby increasing your pleasure in much the same way that the Pointer Sisters longed for a slow hand.
|
1559 14 10
|
A woman posted a story on Fictionaut about discovering that her husband was a werewolf.
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1559 2 2
|
The next day we were sitting at that same outdoor café on the square, trying to savor a peaceful meal of duck plucked fresh from the Vltava River, when the very same waiter passed by and said, “Bet you wish you had some peeg now, no?” There were camer
|
1559 2 1
|
It is like truth on the battle field. Muted
|
1559 6 6
|
It's really not too bad. The personI am was me. We laughed insidethose sacred places at all the monieswell spent. We walked in the gardenswithout any shoes on. Not one singleflower seemed to mind. And now it'sa forgotten mess or so I've imagined.I'd rather you think about…
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1559 15 7
|
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…
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