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The Gallery of Wounds

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The blood is memorable/ as is the copper taste of that/ momentary certainty of lockjaw.

Peanut Time

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A peanut, who knoweth

Deer People

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There was no provision for keeping the post on the door, but I did not have the fingernails to pry it off.

Mr. Pickle and Mr. Peet

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We got a sandwich at Mr. Pickle's, but they cut the sandwich in the plastic. Plastic wrap.

Dirt

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Said do you feel it when you touch me?

July 16

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Last night as a duration spent hovering in electronic media-space.

Cassie Fly

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...the relatives didn't seem nearly as fucked up as she thought they would be considering...

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.

Parsing We

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An excellent plan. Just like old times.

The Arms of the Sea

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The water lapped against the sides of the small boat, their rhythm all that I could think of. Sweltering rays beat down, frying my flesh, the insipid salty breeze that occasionally stirred my only relief from it. Gulls circled overhead, like white ravens,

Confinement

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Even music relies on what/ you know as music/ for its power to enthrall.

Ritual

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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

Meal

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When they tell you to choose your last meal, it probably hasn't dawned on you yet.

Any Given Recent Day

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Ten-year-old Bobby Akins learned that a shotgun shell struck on its brass end with a hammer can indeed take out the left eye of an eight-year-old brother observing the proceedings close by.

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.

Noises

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Another noise, softer than the first: swish, thud. You are still. The house is very loud tonight.

Nose

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At the conference her boss showed off his knowledge of wines.

Bad Clean Fun

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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.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 34

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—Now that’s a hell-of-a-painting, Frank, he said. Those colors are engaged in warfare. How the hell did you do that?

Visitation

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We sat up in bed. It's ‪two o'clock‬ in the morning. Blinding circular flashlight beams probe through the half pulled shades. Magnified black silhouettes of men's torsos lumber back and forth in the yard. We are in a fishbowl and being invaded.

Ink Play

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

Animal Crush

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two pairs of arms and legs

You're Breathing My Relapse

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I was an alcoholic for ten years, starting in my early twenties and continuing into my thirties. Then finally, after many attempts, I got myself straightened out. My son's birth finally did it for me. It wasn't like a switch flipped in the delivery room…

Excerpts from 'Dispatches from the Front: My Life in NE Portland—diary by JENA RACHEL ROCKWELL (year 08)'

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I'm getting self-righteous here, Dear Reader . . . [hey! wait a second! this is my diary! what are you doing, looking at it, dude! Hit the road! Scram! Vamoose!]

The Bounce

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I. Two cancer scares since June, one came up nothing the other nothing much. (My breasts are dense: I know all about moles— little bastards don't have to get sun to go nuts.) My manuscript travels ether to…

Threshold

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But we proliferated back

Falling Towards Oblivion Avenue

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

Carrying you

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I woke up to the humming of an empty space in the shape of a sweatshirt,

Abyss

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When Lois finally found him down there, Johnny was wedged between a large rock and the trunk of an old, long since fallen, cottonwood tree. She said as she got to him, she heard his gurgling breath, fighting fiercely to stay alive. When she saw the deep, gathering, red…

Meaning of Life # 18

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To hell with the moon!