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from here with its brightly polished fingers spread easily amongst the cresting winds off the choppysky, circling the sun and sea splattered cliffs like a lone marble rolling down a smoothed out incline only to be turned invisibly over again as if…
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Lisa Pottratz's mother illustrated fashion for Lord & Taylor from home in the 1970s. There is more to say about fertility, naming, and diabetes.
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Johnny and Dee Dee Ramone crack open
an Old Bushmill’s and offer John Huston a pull.
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These words are dripping Delaware and these words are eating your eyes.
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The girls of spring, they’ll stop your heart
When they forsake cosmetic art
They practiced back when skies were grey
and clouds obscured the light of day.
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It waited and witnessed the seasons complete a grouping and form a year. Then it watched them do it again. Winter, spring, summer, fall. It watched from the inside of course. But it could see. Big sliding glass doors and long and wide windows stayed the course also, way…
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So, I say, what is the answer?
The answer to what?
You know. The song by Bob Dylan. The answer is blowing in the wind. You’re the wind. So what’s the answer?
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—You know, Angelique, said Elaine Aster, dabbing her lips with a napkin, I’ve opened a new gallery in Paris.
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Everybody will be talking about it
on campuses across the country
“Hey! You’ll never guess who’s toilet
I bought. I’m not shitting you!”
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I'm putting makeup on my face. The woman next to me is reviewing legal briefs.
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Mayumi’s eyes twitched. Her head felt the pounding images and voices grafting themselves onto her mind.
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One evening I came home late from work to find my wife drinking white Zinfandel by the fireplace in the living room and reading Wallace Stevens poems out loud to the dog, curled at her feet.
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Frenchie hustled waffle irons.
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There is a woman in here- I am never alone- but she is fully clothed in Detroit Derby Dolls gear and stands at a modest seven inches tall.
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Be aware the dog is king, radiant, emitting many beams, renewed by and restored by his fullness, his satiety. In many ways underlying all our hearts and minds, out of our notorious youth, ever the flower of our flesh on fire like a little reed next to the dried…
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(no one need fear timidity in our tastes― /
we like trying new things, no matter our hastes!)
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1436 2 0
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“Have I told you this one before?”
I can’t think of one he hasn’t told me, but saying so won’t stop him. I fire up the FreeCell game, put the phone on speaker, and pour a tumbler of chardonnay.
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On Tuesday, he wears his suit to the cafe. Of course they'll let him pay! Of course. Under the table, his wife accepts their wadded bills.
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They waited not a moment longer than was necessary But moved right in and
Began their loathsome ch
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Everything was cool until she used the phrase, "five million dollar home."
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Friday night in Little Italy is a big night.
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1435 4 0
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He couldn’t dredge up a single memory about the sex.
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1435 3 2
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Little things that kept me going are no longer doing the trick, and venting to someone eventually drives them away. People around you know what is going on, but there is little they can do. They stay away at more than an arms length and you understand. Tr
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Masking. Helen says not to think of it as covering or disguising or concealing. Helen says to understand it is not to take it as something put up front and over like a mask. Helen says it’s not like that...
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1435 6 0
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To be perfectly honest, I was lousy at my job. Or at least most aspects of it. The typing wasn’t a problem: I can get up to a hundred words a minute on a good stretch of unbroken text, and I’m pretty accurate. I even edited as I went, fixing passiv
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I kill because I can’t stop. I kill because I can.
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1435 2 1
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In the blur she met Joseph. Joseph was the priest who lived in the attic of the church. She met him after she grew boobs and thighs that moved like dragonflies soaring above ponds.
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Overhead cranes balance ordinance from one end of the palatial enclosure to the other. There are robots, high-voltage, force-fields…more than a hundred ways someone could get hurt. I looked back again…She was gone.
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There is no there or where but rather/
trajectories of probability
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“Behold!” cried the Lord, on a late September morning,
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