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The Judge's Wife Part 5

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—Jesus, that bastard has everyone in his pocket.

The Sunlight of the Mind

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The nerves are birds that guide us to feeling the loop and lift of reverie.

Professional Pizza Patter

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We all stared, somewhat shocked and mostly disgusted.

Hope's Amanuensis

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I was low on carburetor / oxygen and my fraud protection / had just expired.

Exceeded

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I am exceeded / by a leaf

Bag

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No chance for Hallo, we sank into an unlit station doorway and he fumbled through my shorts.

The Poem Sits at Home and Envies as It Celebrates Music

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Translation’s not required—music/ sings itself complete and comprehensible

Filter

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The brain taints everything it brings to us/ with its limited apparatus, its precepts,// all the things it thinks it knows.

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.

The Commodore

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

Sorry Now

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

Dumpster

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When flash and bang merge you are, according to the manual, in deep do-do.

Monday

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Always in a hurry/to spoil your/weekend

The Perfumed Kitten

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We named her Big Cat—I don’t know why. Maybe because she was already grown when we got her, unlike the kittens we’d seen in the pet store window that Dad wouldn’t let us have.

The Richter Sanction

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“Now,” my friend said. “Tell us about earthquakes. Can we expect one anytime soon?”

Assiduity Eight

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no snippet tasting

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

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In ashen hills of yonder

Jenny Whistled Through The Mail Slot

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We all thought, Birds! We all thought, Nests inside the chimney!

Cheating at Strip Poker

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I remember one time when we played strip poker in the basement of your house on Euclid Avenue, me, Terry, you and Andy. And I remember drinking lots of wine and fixing the deck so that you kept losing and having to take off all your clothes, and still you

Lord of the Poets

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I almost caught a poet today.

The Man That Wasn't Hers

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"I am lying on my back and am confused."

Bad Ideas I've Had

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Not all ideas are bad, just mine.

String Money

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I said hey man, how you doin’? He looked up and nodded but his shades flashed and I couldn’t see his eyes.

Neil Gaiman

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

Using Proven Scientific Methods to Get Published

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I have a ninety two percent rejection rate.

Old Houses

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The rocking chair will bite your toes.

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)

The Blocked Toxin

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Listen to chickadees. Join / LinkedIn.

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…

Study in Contrast

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But tonight while your finger glides across the glossy pages of Popular Science I hold a séance for the Holy Spirit in utter seriousness among the book clutter and crumpled manifestos in the basement