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the heart would have unnatural reverence

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The heart would have unnatural reverence, exalted, bursting with evil, rolling in sloth, if it did not at once reveal its innocence. I saw you again, on the morning of the sun. It was you, or your double, or a son you might have had. Your beautiful bloo

Put Your Trust in God

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God is my stomach.

Pain

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My pain is a black pearl hidden in a clean shell.

Coffee Foam

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We entered the castle at dawn. The dim light feebly illumined an array of antiques and medieval weapons. Bats dangled from the high vaulted ceiling, enfolded in membranous wings. What were once chandeliers radiating light were encrusted with webs and the ancient wax…

Junk Pulse

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Me included...

Digging

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I came to a field where, scattered around, were quite a few men digging holes

Grannies

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The four Grannies say, “GO!” and leap from the window. King's pickup is below, and he has lined the bed with his mother's throw pillows. Sundresses fly. Blue plastic diapers billow. They want cigarettes. I light their smokes with King's pearl-handled lighter as…

Wonderland

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The bartender kept looking at himself in the mirror behind the bar. “Everyone in Hollywood is an actor,” Doc said.

Fulton Flapper

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The Italian was late. She was supposed to come into the store, meet him in the back, and arrange to take the last of his liquor.

Spaghettiad

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In the mode of Swinburne's ‘Dolores':For the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster- A study of the notion of “Intelligent Design” Since the universe came into dawning, If e'er this bright universe did, Men ought to know better in…

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.

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

Ben Clarone: Prologue Part 2

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This was not the bar that the artist usually frequented.

Kissing In a Warm Car

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Then I did the same to you, inhaling your scent which was one thing at your hairline and another at your collarbone.

Vision and Conviction in San Lorenzo

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"They don't know how this formed or how it got to where it is today. What we do know is that it's not going to last forever." Said Edward McCabe to his daughter who hadn't learned to talk but communicated with her father through her agreement or disagreem

Amanda Palmer

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Amanda Palmer's explaining the eyebrow thing. An altercation with someone at Roadrunner, or maybe old boyfriend shit to burn— She's animated but he's losing signal, filling in the blanks himself. Whatever, it won't light at first, and then WHUMP and she…

Examination of Faith (And the Big Bang)

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The marble, it's just there. I can't explain how it got there (or when), all I know is that everything is in that marble. By "everything," I mean every thing. Your breakfast? It's there.

Coming From Alabama

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In the state that the stars fell on, Love and I stumbled upon bits of God where he forgot sky and moon, too.

The Big LARP

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The ambient sound wheezes on.

The Morning

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Early in the morning I wanted to send you something for when you wake;

Memoir 2.4

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He invited her in for a Martini and she graciously accepted.

Voyeur

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He and she are fucking while I watch. She's moaning deep desire and he's pounding flesh into flesh. I'm fully clothed, eyes attune to their fornication, studying. He comes inside of her; their bodies stiffen and then wriggle against one another. …

Poem: The Two Week Vacation

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The mother, a pony-tailed beauty, thinks she looks fat in her new blue-checked pedal pushers and white blouse tied under her full breasts— in the latest style.

The Bludgeoning of a Burgeoning Young Artist

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There was an implicit understanding, made clear by Athena's gentle stroking of Freddy's silky blond hair, that he would share her canopy bed with its frilly fuchsia pillows. He didn't mind this, despite despising the color of the pillows.

Story Story

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It was one of those sweltering afternoons that San Diego endures only several times a summer. I'm riding on El Cajon Boulevard, with my friend John in his old Chevy pickup. John is a lifelong San Diego resident and fanatical Charger backer. He's talking up some…

I Am Quantum

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He had a lean build, except, remarkably, his midsection was perfectly barrel-like. As if he kept an alien lifeform in his belly, cultivated by years of Pabst and Yuengling transfusions.

Query

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time timed times time

Desert Storm, an Infrared Dream/David Avidan

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Desert Storm, an Infrared Dream/Poem by the late David Avidan On January 17, 1991 I woke up at 02:45 from a neo-surreal dream with a slight not very serious feeling of suffocation a pre-asthma attack instantly stifled with the inhalation of Ventolin an

At the Brooks Brothers Hip Hop Summit

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I pat my pocket to make sure everything’s in order; a Starbucks blueberry scone to sustain me, a $50 Brooks Brothers gift card from my in-laws, and my “piece”–a fully-charged BlackBerry handheld device.

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...