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Waiting for Fireworks

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I take her hand. More grey dust rolls off the arms, over the railing, into the wind. It’s embarrassing and I let go. I think she told me to throw them away months ago. I rub her bare thigh. She laughs real soft like. The corner of her lip curls up.

eleven by eleven by five

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(the hourglass has not gone digital, oh no,/but these days, silicon is in with the sand)

Dreams Should Come with Buttered Popcorn

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the brain plays impish tricks/ and entertains itself with avant garde/ home movies

Beachcomber's dirge

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...clash of gulls wend upwards, disappearing into grey night's high tide recedes

The Neighbors

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The first apartment Troy and Lynn lived in was managed by an alcoholic former army officer, who lived in the complex with his wife and teenage daughter. He was a lush who didn't do much in the way of management. Lynn had barely noticed him before Troy moved in with her.…

What He Lost Round the Mountain

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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......

Dangerous Questions

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Shirley stubbed her cigarillo out on a dead chunk of honeycomb.

#32: Deep in Structures of Awareness (Structured Poem)

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In ashen hills of yonder

Family Friend

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My student assistant was a comely young woman. A freckle faced blonde. She was from Ohio.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 22

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Elaine and Francesco exited the taxi in front of Elaine Aster Gallery.

A New Chapter to Song of Solomon: A Poem

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My beloved lets me crawl into bed and put my feet on him since his skin is warm and hot like a fire roaring from within his soft flesh.

Song of Unself

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nothing suffices as harbor / but a permit to claw at every yawing chasm

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.

The Light In My Arms

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I asked him his name and here’s the kicker, Leiby. It means lion. You know what? I said mine is Levi, how do you do. That means to accompany—like in the root of the word, it’s got that meaning. As in levayah, funeral in Hebrew. Does that only

Meeting for a Drink

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But the profligate are blameless now Those who conflate sex and love the way dumber animals mistake heat for light have moved freely back to some primal zone where if I’m felt to be contradictory to the surroundings it’s because I wanted t

Too many leaves

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This late November day there are too many leaves filling the yard.

What I told the police the morning after

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Miracles don’t happen to the poor.

From This Distance

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Yes, I can imagine it now/ how we could each disappear completely/ connected only through memory's fault lines/

Dumb Ass

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

Snarket

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Shit, I guess I'm gonna hafta

Eskimos Happened to Come Wandering By

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Meet Carl. He's six-three, two hundred and thirty pounds. He has light-brown hair,…

The Element of Ritual

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Nurse Smithers straightened Dr. Baumgartner’s feathered head dress. it had slipped down below the caduceus so carefully painted on his forehead by the medical ritual staff.

Vulgarity

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suddenly she blurts out: “You are vulgar.” There is actually no perfect translation to it. “Bastos ka.” She meant I was vulgar, but also disgusting, distasteful, offensive, rude, salacious, obnoxious…

This Is How You Make The Bed

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He disrobes; shoes, socks, shirt, belt, pants. He smells of hard work. The nude whisper of everything else.

Erasure

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All else is unmoved/ and relentless in its indifference.

Event Particle (9)

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leaves, starlings and other words fall into thickets of orange or green grasses or tendrils or snakes

Session

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Maybe it might be best to, you know, have less frequent meetings.

Horowitch and Twaddle

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"...does the nurse, doctor or veterinarian experience greater sexual satisfaction than say the housewife in DesMoines or the sixth grade English teacher in Passaic?"

Gulf War

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Someone's ass should be kicked.

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…