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It's Part of the Plan

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...and on the eighth day

Bio Bit

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It was your present world that seemed more than mad to me. Your polished stiff brown shoes that always squeaked like mice, while the latest rude Bombers bubbled up in their comfortable Dart-board garages like apple pies…

Snapshots

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On a street-lit night in Jeddah.

The Sound Of...

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What if Everything I have been doing Hasn’t been heard By anyone?

Elevator to the Angels

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I opened the closet door and there stood Eugène Ionesco lost among our clothes.

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…

Destiny Narrowly Avoided

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Then it started extruding tendrils and tying them all into intricate knots.

The Bird Nests of Lascaux

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With their brightly-colored bits of found string woven into the walls of their nests to teach their baby birds what the worms of the future will look like. Somewhat like the cave paintings of Lascaux for early man in France, when hunti

Tongues

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I feel his hand on my face, feel it brush past my lips, and I taste my sister's blood.

To Zephyrus

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In a field of barley, I see you, ...

Archaeology

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I would like to go back (with spade, pick, soft bristles), and sift through time and layers, brush away the intervening years, and find: the tooth, knocked out by my then best friend, when we were seven, careening downhill in my father's wheelbarrow on Boscobel…

The letter.

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I am useless. A freak. Different. They all hate me now. All except you, of course. You will never leave me. Never. I'd kill them all if I could. Every single one. But twenty-four, that's a lot even for me. I'm so sick of the cliques; the special groups and hastily strung…

One Day We Grow Wings

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Cicadas shed their skin as they grow, leaving crisp hollowed out remains on tree trunks, fence posts, and the undersides of upturned leaves. Tommy and I would collect them in the early morning and stick them to our clothes like brooches. I used to like Tommy,…

You Don't Need To

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You need only one who notices.

The Three O'Clock Sun

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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…

A Break in the Cloud

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Each had jostled and laboured for his or her place upon the blunt outcrop, in the cold persistent darkness, where the outcrop was merely something that had fallen and not quite been washed away.

Falling Towards Oblivion Avenue

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

The Finding Smile

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My mother gave her all to convince him to be a politician. My sister begged on bleeding knees for him to give her head. I just needed somebody to help me find things.

The Listener

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They think because you are a writer you are not much of a listener and so you begin to recognize all of the great opportunities to be much more of a listener and then you shut your trap and get sucked into the whorls of her big wet brown eyes with Italianate…

Carnival Beach

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Galloping people, tangled in ballets of hot love, weaving in and out, making a canvas of it.

The Application of Birds

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I know someone in need of healing.

Metamorphosis Revisited

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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…

The Washing of the Quilts

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Sweaty feet, drool from the weighty sleep of mid-afternoon naps, the inescapable perspiration of the South: all combine to create the entwined scent of socks and stale toothbrushes...

Peanut Time

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A peanut, who knoweth

Ink Play

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Lying on a high seat in the south study, this is what I see:

Dumb Ass

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I want to tell you how the odor of the flowers/felt her funeral day

Edge of Wolf

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edge of wolf howls and howls past sunflowers and skeletons

After the Flood

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That TV you got me? Ruined. And the ionizer fan? Ruined too. All your clothes you left over here, all my work scrubs and weekend dresses too, soaked with that river stink water. I kept thinking bout all the dead creatures.

underwater with their thumbs

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And your daughter, Mrs. P, and your daughter Mrs. Q, underwater, underwater in the old swimming hole, in the backyard swimming pool. “They’ve all got children there.” La la. Yet when I’m naked, when I enter with my own body the mirror, the small sha

The Court of the Vassal

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“I believe this is a case that is very much worth our time. Its probably the most important case thus far in your reign,” Henry said, “my lord.”