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October Days

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The first days of October are ordinary in the way that milk just hours away from spoiling is ordinary milk. You can baptise your cornflakes with it, but part of you knows the whole thing is just shy of almost right.

Silent Night

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The church of the self.

//i look beneath your skin:

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x ≥ ponds rise beyond where you & i have stood

A Funeral for Eddie Moon

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‘It's perfect,' said Maggie as she lay in the casket. Harold Barnes offered his hand. ‘It's a shame he never got to see it,' Maggie continued as she climbed free of the coffin.

Solution

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I wrote her a poem.She said, “I hate poetry.” I said, “OK, just read the words then."

Two More Pennies Towards the Proper Procedure of the Pudding, If You Please

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I always thought I would feel your hand, always, Lay with you as we flew higher together, laugh with You in the little spaces left between certain trees, like tiny blue flowers that only appear suddenly, made secretly Of…

Falling Towards Oblivion Avenue

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At some point, you care/ just enough to wake each morning,

My Glass is Waiting

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The trouble with alarm clocks is naturally that they are miserable. And their curse is that their misery is useful: we employ them because we want to get away from them. But we would never have one as a friend.

Professional Pizza Patter

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We all stared, somewhat shocked and mostly disgusted.

Houses Are Havens and the Outside Plans Your Destruction

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The first of the fires that started by the river in the abandoned mills were so hot they burned white and pale blue

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

The Family of Unsharpened Pencils

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and pressed an area on my forehead between my eyes

End Scene

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In the fall it is especially beautiful with the blazing orange oaks set on fire against a crystal blue sky. It is here that she frequently daydreams of her demise.

Piggy Bank

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we had a million pennies

To Cancer, with love...

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Why do I love you? The monster that you are? I love you for revealing to me my strength My determination, my will My need to survive I love you for showing me the gift that is living

falling, endlessly

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Clouds quickly appeared, in a perfect peach sky. Big, puffy clouds, moving together, formed the shape of a heart.

At Last — My Dream Come True!

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Some fiftysomething woman with a small dog in her arms was waiting for him, backstage. Security hadn't succeeded in restraining her. Strange.

Putting the Damage On

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My Thursday head belonged to a former Miss Brazil named Rita.

Inheritance

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My father died. I took his clothes.

How the Big Man Reigned

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I am fair game that will be hunted and eaten, cutting its edge with Satan's tears from six eyes.

From Solitas To Libramentum

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Look around you, see what you have built.

Suede Denim

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Rogue sits bedside in Jello Biafra’s hospital room.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 40

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Ben was dreaming of sex with Claudia. But, in his dream, he could hear Dan Arris calling his name and pounding on a door. The fear of Dan Arris was pushing out the delights of Claudia.

I See Your Face Before Me

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The summer was announcing itself in thick waves of heat that rolled like a slow motion hurricane inside Mark Keeler's 1971 Mercury Montego. The car baked in a…

The Cracks Between My Keyboard Keys

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In exactly 100 words, I review the cracks between my keyboard keys.

The Man That Wasn't Hers

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

Misunderstood, Meet Cynical.

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The blaring scream from my alarm clock suffices as my wake-up call. It disrupts me from my dream state that I so rarely get the privilege to experience any more. I've always loathed that alarm clock, so I turn it off in the most sensibly aggressive manner I know how: just…

Man Writing Story With Ears Plugged About Painter Who Only Hears in Color; Black Ink, 2002

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Ready, here we go.

Arcana Magi Zero - c.5

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Alysia’s eyes turned to Megumi where her sister nodded. Alysia took a deep breath and stepped back. There was a moment’s hesitation, but she felt Megumi’s hand gripping her wrist.

Sleepwalker

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I may as well have been sleepwalking. Either way, I had no opportunity to admire the moonlight flooding into the long corridors, illuminating the stag heads and painted cheeks of long-dead ancestors.