1563 9 10
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When the dark shadows of his limp eyes told us life was slowly seeping away, stolen by his stroke, his wife signed the “DO NOT RESUSCITATE” order and, tearfully leaving the room, she turns, asking a final question, “Think a needy family could use his…
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1563 1 0
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The parrots woke Eddie up. That and Rocker snoring in the twin bed. A thousand parrots flying over the motel? They squawked, God how they…
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1563 4 3
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When I met Gregor Samsa he was still a cockroach, erratic and skittish whenever the light came on. We often spoke in the dark. I empathized with the man. I mean bug. Ok. That isn't fair. You can't call a man a bug because he chirps and eats dried skin cells. A…
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1563 18 17
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The courts had scheduled the date long ago but the time, an hour always left to the warden, had yet to be decided.
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1563 10 9
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...clash of gulls
wend upwards, disappearing into grey
night's high tide recedes
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1563 17 11
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...when they entered eager lungs hungry from deep and sweaty love
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1563 8 7
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...coming into that bone yard, you just hang a right, go on past La Fontaine, and take a left a bit further on. Jimbo's right up in there.
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1563 4 3
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The plane passes the runway, dips sharply, its shadow straight down below, too cold in the cabin, the sun hitting your arm like a machete below, it is 94, the humidity too, it has just rained for 3 days, it never rains this time of year......
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1563 0 0
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Every morning when he wakes, he lies in bed and waits for one of his toes to twitch or spasm; the moment he feels one of them thrust forward, he gains courage to test his legs. He grimaces either way: one more day of walking, one more day until loss, one more trip to the…
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1563 3 2
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#2 The Typewriter Inside You by Harmon Gentle—I found this one at a garage sale when I was 15. Intended as a manual for sharpening one's typing skills, by the third chapter it became obvious that Mr. Gentle's sanity had slipped, and that rather than mastering the…
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1563 11 9
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A cheap pocket knife was the only sharp I carried in my backpack and they allowed me that. The man with the pot tattoo on his neck said, “All of us here needs some type of knife. You gotta cut up your food. We don't…
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1563 9 8
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Regret takes the shape of little clouds ...
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1563 4 1
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The most unoriginal, trite and hackneyed story ever written!
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1563 4 3
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1562 2 2
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The light of day is screaming,
shook by the calls of howler monkeys,
their low roar hanging in the salt,
in the black sand riding the wind,
as Playa Negra outstretches its infinite arms.
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1562 12 9
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I smelled the bleach of burst anemones
the sweet arousal of the Dungeness crabs
the seaweed of sour twigs and feces
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1562 3 3
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The shit just doesn't want to come off.
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1562 0 0
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Bruce Springsteen begins singing from the loud speaker he was bruised and battered and couldn’t tell what he felt.
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1562 1 1
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The dance draws deeper
whirling witches weaving rhymes
The fire spits fierce in the falling rain
soon the spell will spill from secret times
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1562 5 0
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"And then I, and I believe,
I alone, saw
this small child
run..."
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1562 5 2
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He spoke the "Why" and it stuck out its tail. He tripped and fell with his face wedged between the W. She kept the answer in her chest so the words wouldn't crowd him where he lay. The "Why" found its way back into his cheeks and puffed his face out like a disease. He…
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1562 0 0
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The young man pulls out his wallet, grabs a couple of bills and stops short of handing them to the bedraggled man. “So how do I know you’re not going to go out and buy some crack with this money?”
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1562 2 1
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I think we could be twins, our hands hitching us together like paper dolls, our parkas making blobby round balloon shapes as outlines for our bodies. I imagine each of us holding onto someone else, and the line continuing on from there until we have a cha
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1562 8 7
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he wound up hating the woman he betrayed in his heart for betraying him in her body
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1562 7 6
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1562 14 11
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1562 4 3
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Soon, out of the womb ‘down there' is nuance. It guides you, like a legality, like your own breathing, in and out of overtone, hardcore hodgepodges, those inklings near sacrosanct beyond breakfront negligees and neo-negligence leading the good life. Isn't it…
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1562 11 7
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You are a warm winter
Despite the presence of snow
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1562 0 0
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“She’s very sick. She’s dying,” and he smoothed my hair along my neck.
“It’s leukemia. A very rare type,” his hand reached my shoulder and stopped there.
“She only has a few months.”
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1562 3 2
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The voice on the other end mumbles, not forming words, but I understand: I am to be the starting third baseman for the Detroit Tigers.
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