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Looking for Comments

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So do you read my writing?I text youI need to know whatyou like betterThe bloodor the gutsThat's what it is.You see Iput it out therefor you.That's not what it saysbut I know the truth.Am I smart enoughgood enoughdo you think it's crapbecause anyone can like it…

How Was Your Afternoon, Dear? 2

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The pool deck was covered with the bloody footprints of resident gawkers.

Books

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'Like poems,’ I said she paused and nodded her black mop.

Bunker

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Dressed as an English professor on Halloween I escape the red devil and run downtown. I go to the Art Car hangar I dance, I swing my golden brown briefcase

Cat summoned for jury duty in Boston

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Cat summoned for jury duty in Boston Wayward hawk loose inside Library of Congress finally caught (God only knows what happened to the doves) Vacaville roof collapse blamed on bird droppings These are a few of my favorite things Piano mysterio

Vesper

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

In the Garden

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It will always be this way/ won’t it, she said. Me insecure, you unfaithful

The Tourists

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He thought of his field trip from the previous year, of Prague’s museums, statues, squares, architecture, restaurants, and various modes of transport. The town offered none of these and surely no cinema, no crowds of people, not even an old church.

A Bad Year

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It's been a bad year, People dying. Some too close to home, Some too far away. I cry down to you, In your casket, and think you might sit up. You were not sick You went in just a moment, Looking stunning and alive. Not…

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

The Song of Jerome

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"My love is with eggs!"

Mon in the forest: a fragment

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Mon wakes up surrounded by trees. The light is grey, the trunks black.How long have I slept? he wonders.He doesn't know which way to walk. In every direction, the same prospect of trees. He looks up at a blank sky. No sign even of the sun.***He starts walking. Slowly,…

Caterpillar on a Chalkboard

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What do you want me to tell you about this next full moon cycle that you don't already intuitively seem to have touched upon in your latest bout of almost there dreams? It too will pass? That it is a totally different unfair animal from the repellent one already…

Apex

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You left paint and blood smeared on the wall.

The Savage (K2)

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Rises monstrous out of the Baltoro GlacierPlaying poker with oxygen levelsPlays leap frog with embolisms.Malice and vanity join forces somurder guns the air even beforethe Death Zone. Down suits, bold and cockyregisters the climber's ambitions. The Serac , a…

PAPA'S TEARS

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Darkness was fast approaching. I stuck out my tongue at Naya, and she reached out as if to grab…

C-ing History

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Conjure calamity and calamity comes.

The Rocket

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Mother told me that I would go to the moon. But she did not tell me that on Diwali night, the moon hid himself on the other side of the sky.

Cold

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I told her I didn't love her. She said love wasn't important; she wanted to marry a man she could respect.

Twenty-two

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The year begins well here with much needed rain and tee-shirt temperatures.

Paris Love Songs: Nos. 5 & 6

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Aucune idée

Apathy.

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I'm not sure whetherI drink to numbthe pain or toactually feelsomething.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 7

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Frank kept looking over at Michiko’s loft.

In Brief

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

Releasing Your Inner Bigfoot

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In the ’70′s, Bigfoot was romantically linked with Farrah Fawcett, spotted in an Arkansas 7-11 with Elvis, and tabbed the front-runner to be Secretary of the Interior had Gerald Ford defeated Jimmy Carter.

Global Arms

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~(+)~

Seasonal Affective Disorder

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A man of action would take to his rake/ but Sloth would rather watch and wait/ for snow to erase each leaf on leaf.

M. Nerveux Chronicles: Toad Suffers a Bad Business

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Herr Toad smokin'

Veined and Green

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Where we’ve penned heart shaped question marks, seeds sprouting bowed heads, a congregation of confused supplicants.

The Bowery Scene (Memoir, 1981; edited by Charlotte Curtis)

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It is easy to look out on the Bowery and say, "There are the bums." Encountering one, however, even one who asks to "bum a quarter" or tells you he's "on the bum" the word "bum" slips away in one's mind...