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The Lycanthrope Fun-Time Activity Book

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an elongating boy with butter-yellow flecks in his eyes, and skin patched like a tabby.

Washing the dishes...

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There are certain items in the sink that are giving me an anxious feeling in my stomach.

Alyssa

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Before the paint spikes Coney Island to the wind, I walk home through the strum of a shield, colder than the one he left behind. For the hour I sprawl along the sidewalk in her laugh, crater's shadows for Wonder Wheel, he is midnight sun in The Last Waltz. Where the glow…

Diet Plans

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She positioned the mouse cursor over the word Bikini and double clicked. The hard drive of the ageing work PC chugged into life as an Excel document dragged itself onto the screen.

Movie Conference, 1963

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Suddenly the producer, Irving, tosses a new idea into the discussion, an idea for a possible film. Then the writer, Herbert, does the talking. He performs, in fact, puts on a one-man show. The idea! The idea! It's…

Dancing With the Monster

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It comes to me at night, the monster. I don't even realize it's in the room until I hear it breathing behind me. It reaches out its hands and places them on my shoulders. Its fingers are furry and soft, but strong. They grasp the muscles on either side of my neck, and I…

The Rat, His Treadwheel

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The rat had been informed, assured, cajoled in order to gain his assent—duly lied to, in other words, by the researchers with not one tear of remorse, with no smudge or smear of conscience . . .

Changes Are

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When people drastically change everything about themselves repeatedly, don't they eventually just end up alienating everyone?

Roger's Box

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"I see flashing bright bacteria floating in the air," he replied, not bothering to think about the words. "I see puffs of smoke issuing from inappropriate objects. Fingertips. Baby carrots. Furniture... Oh, Christ," he seethed, arching again. "Get me some

But Wait, There's More

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A rock group named Stuck Gas Pedal. Another named Tweezer. A group of young punk-rockers wearing neckerchiefs named Mein Kampfire. But wait, there’s more. A song called “We Were Being Facetious,” co-written by them all. Lost Flyswatter. That

Do the Shogun Moon

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Heel to toe, our bunions are our ingrown medals.

Secure

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This is the Minuteman tine/ of the three-tined fork// we can stick into the modern world/ when it’s done-- a MAD triad.

Leaping Through Flames

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I should have never gotten involved in such a huge lie. I was a poet, for God's sake, not a novelist. I wasn't used to lying.

The Mutes

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Some people are born that way, and some people do things to themselves that keep them from talking. Like opening up a soda bottle with your mouth.

Music That Tastes Like Blood

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It is your music that makes me want to crack open my ribcage and rip out my heart as it still beats, to cauterize my carotids, and shove the mechanical insides of a clock into my thoracic cavity.

Tissue

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A tissue, she was saying - hand me a tissue. Her seat belt was locked and she was rocking back and forth in it cinching wrinkles into her favorite blue silk blouse. I can't remember her wearing anything else. Her hands were gesturing - on and on- an endless loop…

Mobiles

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My stories are ramshackle; they lurch along in old sweaters with holes and missing buttons, drinking from mismatched cups and saucers.

Dinner with Someone Who Fucks Someone Else

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say no / to me / and devastate me / and I will take it / as god's will / to drown me / in a vat / of my own / entrails

3 Poems Of Broken Hands And Lonely Drones

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another lonely drone holding still

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…

Perfect Lady

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The Tea Party member was married but cuter. He worked as a caulker, a tub and basin man.

Aftermath

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Oh sweet, sweet morning light

The Industrious Mice

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I am not responsible for any nightmares this piece may cause for all you mice lovers!

Husband Googles Travel Zoo

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When you need a vacation...from everything.

Downland Ballad I :Photo-disintegration

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Like a distant memory of past expectations I wander through past journeys, delineations chew on the fresh air like a discontented Wordsworth now free, free to roam where I will..

Lullaby

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I never meant to shipwreck you, I didn't even know I was singing out loud. I just stood on my rock a little too boldly, and hummed a tune you wanted to hear.

The Mujahideen

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Eighteen-year-old Svetlana Kabalevsky was now the widow of the poet Dmetri Kabalevsky, soon to be another widow-whore on the Moscow highway.

Fantasy Wiring

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In the mechanics of the fantasy, it is essential that the wiring is maintained, all circuits working, every current flowing with the precise measurements, lest the system malfunction and the world completely lost. The engineers are constantly abuzz, constantly understaffed…

Cranshaw Engages in Debate

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They were discussing reincarnation, what animals they would come back as. "I'd be a vole," Cranshaw said. Is a vole even an animal? Connie asked.

Fractional

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Fine gradations of the fractional/ fissure the eggshell whole we crave