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Dashboard Jesus

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When I first started this, a few months ago, I was timid about looking people in the eye.

Reasons to Live (RtL) = right to left

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6. to register for the draft

All Men With Well Trimmed Beards

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Or, do my own red flags counter balance his. My back and forth, my restlessness, my one foot out the door, my ‘once a leaver… always a leaver’, my pitter patter for a former flame... peppered with my transgressions, my mistakes. Or, worse, the way I have

Afterworld

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We suffer// the one agony only- of having no longer/ any physical effect nor way to speak/ of what we watch to those we watch.

And so, like a kind of molting

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So for now, let the snow fall, but let it fall gently, each flake as a soft piano note

ANALOG

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We’re going to talk about our future like the Rick Dees Weekly Top 40. Like there are 40 great songs this week about our future.

Modern Car Problems

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Sitting in the car, John had the urge to kill himself.

C-ing History

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Conjure calamity and calamity comes.

The Tale Of Lys

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Even the old medicine woman seemed to grin with a perverted sort of understanding when she opened the door to find Lys waiting outside. She was comfortable nowhere and ready to flee at any moment.

Meaning of Life # 18

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To hell with the moon!

FWA (Fiction Writers Anonymous)

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Sebastian and Janice had been a natural match. They sought to deny this at first because a recovery assistance program was not a place to forge intimate relationships. It worked out wonderfully in Hollywood, but Hollywood, as everyone knew, was just a facade. So…

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 7

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Frank kept looking over at Michiko’s loft.

Assiduity Twenty One

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Blue skies greet us as we exit the forest . . .

Threshold

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He wasn't sure if I was joking.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 67

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Anatoly Gringovitch sat in the police car returning him to the Opera House.

Thanking Harry

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At a candlelit table near the back of the restaurant, Jack and Lois greeted the waiter as he delivered their drinks, a diet coke for him, and for her, a vodka and cranberry. He apologized for the slow bar service and promised to return in a moment to take their…

Go ahead

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Sit right down in the chair. It's a glider, see? Smooth and easy movement without that annoying head-swing you get from a rocker. And easy to get out of, unlike a lounge chair. Relax. "Reba" reruns will be coming on in a minute.

Winter Paints Nelson County

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It was more than just taste/ more than a point of view/ and oil and pigment/ that painted a store front church/ a box with a cross in a vacant lot/ that welcomed desperation, faith/ and imagination.

Contained

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You’re listening to Smooth FM, taking you from the darkest hours to the start of a brand new day.

His Essay on the Meaning of Poetry

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Poetry is conceit; emotional, intellectual or technical.

fragments of their lives survive

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Only fragments of their lives survive, like broken Sapphos. I have known them, alleged killer of themselves for the love of a man., but we know this is an invention. The leader of a whole guild of girls, who wrote 7 books of poems. What happened to them

Absinthe Drinking in a Bar in Paris

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Half past six; already, through the gloom Saltwater flourish sifts from wharfs that ply Their play like girls that haunt the midnight's womb, As far it seems as walks of Barbary. Within the bar, French waitresses and sots Play dice with time awhile and rub…

Shadowland

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His touch, even now, seemed to set off tremors inside her.

Global Arms - 3

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She continued to cooperate with a city council agenda dominated by globalized privatization

In Brief

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I can admire Falling Water and find Mr. Wright a complete shit.

Henny Penny On Why She Crossed the Road

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Ok, ok, people are forever asking me, so why did I cross the frickin’ road? Dumb-shit me, of course. Consequences waaay unforseen.

Vesper

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. . . how a body calls in the dark. . .

Aisle Seven

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A young boy, breathing heavily from running, stopped at her feet, barely able to speak,

How to Stop Doing and Be

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Monday will come soon enough to get/ what needs to be done, done.

In an Unfamiliar Restaurant.

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I find myself in an unfamiliar restaurant, its cuisine an uncomfortable pastiche of Croatian, Burmese, Jamaican and leftovers of long ago Sunday dinners in a small New England town.