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Our Travels on Fire

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We were offered mannequins that had pubic hair that grew and swirled, and could visit like a pet, and sit in your lap

The Commodore

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The commodore drives a 67 Caddy rag top All fin and boatish power

I Wish This Was Fiction

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The convalescent home's common areas are surprisingly well-appointed, given the neighborhood, which makes his actual living quarters that much more dismaying. Poorly lit, dusty, stifling, the room reeks of socks worn for weeks on end. My nostrils burn, and my eyes…

Napomo 17: April 19 – 24

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There are no inspirations./ There are only the things I like/ and the much more numerous// things I do not like.

Glossolalia

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Method of divination. Open a book to any section. Drop your hand onto the page. Read that there is an exorcism happening in the other room.

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.5 - c.4

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Sora and Ciel stood before Dean Morden inside his office. It felt weird to the girls looking at him sitting behind Madam Mayweather’s desk

Postcard from Shambhala

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Dearest Z— There is no way to describe this place. It is a pendulum, caught at mid-swing or maybe just a millimeter on the up side. It is a sense of sweeping, a cleanness. Distant clouds remind me of the day we took the train and the mountains acted petulantly,…

eleven by eleven by five

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(the hourglass has not gone digital, oh no,/but these days, silicon is in with the sand)

On Clearance

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She clutched her fat rolls and tugged on a pant leg. "I'm so embarrassed! You caught me on a bad day!"

Summer, 1966

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After my mother died, my father shipped me to my uncle's. He hadn't told me she was dying, so he could just mourn alone.Lena lived next door, Italian, my age -- which was ten -- beautiful. She was watched by goons in black suits. Her parents owned a restaurant. Across the…

The Rats

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I climb up on the sofa and stand next to him. I smell something.

Taikutsuna, Abburido, Boring

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A Beatles haircut and loose Khaki painters overalls rendered the child sexless. He or she walked over to Hugh’s side and standing tiptoe peered into the casket. She, for Hugh had determined it was a girl, stroked the silk lining.

Sort of Like Bukowski, But Completely Oblivious

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My eyes don’t close but hers are shut tight, and something inside tells me that to this girl, I could be absolutely anyone.

Wash That Man

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The washing machine at home was broken. It was an old leaky Maytag. A discouraging mess—twisted panties, sky-blue jeans, and an old lover or two or three floating downstream (the reverse of spawning salmon). Each man was slightly drowned,…

Catching Mitt For Sadness

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He stops smiling and only says he loves me when prompted, as if asking me to pass the salt for his inner peace as it tastes too bland.

Sorry Now

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You’ll say you should have known. You’ll blame my music.

There There There

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i hear the boom boom boom in the room room room

Friday Briefings

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They could occupy the space// left by creatures larger and more/ evolved.

Luminous Nights, 5

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It turned out that my brother's newly acquired building in downtown Pasadena, was what developers called a "see-through" building. That meant you could look from one side of the building all the way through to the other side, without obstruction. In oth

Haiku Life

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A funny thing this life

Marion and Carolee

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I never took more than a few pills at a time, just enough for a treat on Friday night.

#32: Deep in Structures of Awareness (Structured Poem)

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In ashen hills of yonder

Something Going Down, Like a Branch Snapped by Wind

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This is 57% of middle America, I'm convinced: doomed.

Just Stopped In For A Raspberry Slushie

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Certain disorders lend themselves to poetics.

Secrets; Opening to "Woolgathering"

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Some of us, however, turn our secrets over in our souls, churning them with the fury of the howling winds of a January night. They are eroded and shaped and fine-tuned with the precision of a jeweler; the deeper and darker they are, the more brilliant of

Neil Gaiman

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“Tell me a story,” he said, toying with his top hat, running his fingers along its brim.

Fictionaut or Not? Write On.

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Okay, I'm here; I'm participating. Enjoying the back & forth with other writers. Waiting for penises and fetuses to move down the "Most Recent" list, but working around them. Well, that's kind of unintentionally visual.This essay, like many other reads on here, is…

Cancer Always Calls Collect - Part 2 - Dear Santa

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We all know that sometimes miracles happen and sometimes they don't. Some days are good and some days go by slowly as the fatigue sets in and he realizes that he is fighting cancer.

White Room

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A white room is empty but for you, a card table and a chair.

Professional Pizza Patter

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We all stared, somewhat shocked and mostly disgusted.