1525 0 0
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Why did he seek punishment, if he felt no guilt? Why this empty conscious, though he had done such evil?
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1525 6 1
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I'm not dying. What is it called if you think you might have Hypochondria but you really don't? I'm worried that's what I have. Is it cold in here? Or is it me, dying?
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1525 1 1
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Wherever you decide to grow
Please remember to ask the dirt
‘Am I still dust’
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1525 11 8
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They could occupy the space//
left by creatures larger and more/
evolved.
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1525 3 3
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1525 7 6
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Here the three o'clock sun is an old patched up fellow, with a stained yellow beard, walking in a small crispy rain of brown leaves, looking at something that requires a bit of squinting no one else can see, on the far side of the softening…
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1525 1 1
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My grief is made up of
Demons fighting to
Claw their way first
Out of my eyes
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1525 3 1
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7 — IT'S HARD TO HAVE FRIENDS WHEN YOU'VE NEVER HAD ANY AND ARE STILL FUCKING WHINING ABOUT IT — Once he learned he didn't “bring anything to the table,” Worthless Veikass hit on the notion of [...]
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1525 3 2
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Boil (n.)––1. Pus-filled pustule inflammation of the skin, usually painful. 2. Slang boiled pus, bucket of (n. phrase)“Your asshole brain is a bucket of boiled pus.” (see also pus, SCOTTISH derogatory term for face.
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1524 1 1
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He did many things for love: Once he placed his tongue in his boyfriend’s nostril during sex, because he seemed to have read in the internet that this was a “thing” among the younger of their social class...
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1524 4 2
|
Anatoly Gringovitch took a swallow of beer, thoughtfully put the cap on his Ferrari da Varese custom fountain pen, and launched into his story:
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1524 16 8
|
I watch the seagulls making their quacking noises
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1524 10 6
|
gravel coughing up tires at 90 miles an hour
and just getting under way
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1524 4 3
|
I wrote this paragraph (the first in a series of 14 paragraphs) shortly after Frank Sinatra had died and during my last visit to my boyfriend, M. He had not seen me write something in years.
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1524 11 7
|
She had just done it in the backseat with the man she decided would be her father. Or maybe it was the cast of his eyes under the dim bar lights. Maybe she insisted that this had to be done, to relive the night under the stars, under a dented roof of a station…
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1524 2 2
|
“Oh yeah?" I said to Stendhal. "I found six references to women's eyebrows in Travels in the South of France. That's all you think about!”
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1524 8 4
|
It was cold and clammy, but then it got worse. Far worse. Any opportunity to celebrate the unity and harmony of tolerance was soon cancelled.
|
1524 2 0
|
A dream that seems
Impossible
When fresh blood soaks the ground
|
1524 7 6
|
Maybe it was a trick of the gloom.
|
1524 9 4
|
happily fling Molotov cocktails//
against ICE agents in armored vehicles/
and sing the pain of their burning deaths/
as triumph against asininity.
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1524 8 3
|
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.
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1524 3 2
|
For a time he documented his facial expressions.
|
1524 4 2
|
they tried to trick the sun
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1523 10 10
|
I dreamt I was raped the other night. Sometimes it was me, that is, and sometimes it was another woman with a dark bouffant hair-do. Definitely outside though and the hulking back of the man was covered by a charcoal wool…
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1523 8 8
|
You've had some truly awful shit pumped into your brains for years at a time now. The practice started a long time ago. It's not always your fault. The only lasting way to get it out of your head is to go and figure out exactly where…
|
1523 2 1
|
“Apollo twenty-two. Come in.”, the voice crackled through the speakers of the aircraft. There was only silence broken by a solitary meow and the slight whistle of oxygenated air through the ventilation system. “Captain Snuggles, now that you…
|
1523 1 1
|
Winter in Phoenix Arizona happens in July. An overgrown lawn is working its way up onto The sidewalk. And then there's you with your mower, A hidden newspaper in the middle of everything. Snowflakes puff out from under Spinning blades. You hover above like…
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1523 12 8
|
That’s a long time/
to live with the certainty/
of your death
|
1523 6 5
|
It sits up tall on its hind legs to take in all of whatever this is, big and bluer than the sky, death's own taxicab parked on its doorstep.
|
1523 2 1
|
I am exceeded / by a leaf
|