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Tree Yaupon

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They clog the skimmer basket/ and fill the small Polaris bag.

Passings

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Perhaps my grandparents, Fred and Lela, when they were growing up....

Legs

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Rachel Stevens is an attractive woman I notice her long fair skinned legs and think that She must wear sun block to live in Arizona And have skirts like that. Today she invites me inside, She says she has a light bulb for me to change — up high. In a friendly…

Beasts of the Talent Show

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Finally my daughter emerges from behind the silver curtain, riding piggy-back on a gigantic proboscis monkey. She's preoccupied by his nose, and wrings it like a wet dishrag with both hands. If it hurts he's not showing it.

Into The Night

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Under a conspiratorial moon… the shovel my silent partner… organ-less torso to the worms.

Artist's Statement: Stepbrother

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Mark Reep is that stepbrother you had a thing for, the one who turned you onto Steve Vai, Stoli.

Heaven On the Floor

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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.

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…

There is a Certain Long Armed Bird I See

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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…

Just Wondrin'

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Ever had the occasion to wake up look at your watch and see it's five-thirty in the morning — after sleeping on the couch all night? Ever then gone to take a leak, trudged down the hall, cracked your bedroom door to check on your wife and found a portly, balding man…

The Cosmos as Gerunds

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There is no there or where but rather/ trajectories of probability

A Blowhard Drops By

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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?

Puddles

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The first inkling that I might be in love with Josie came at our high school senior day outing at, oh, what's its name, state park. I forgot, but it doesn't matter. She smiled, did a little wave and stepped away from her friends, lifted her sundress a little to keep it dry,…

Physics 101

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The cellar smelled like an aroused muskrat.

Behind the Ear

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She grew tired of waiting for her husband to give her a flower so she picked one for herself.

Warning! Please Read this Before Adopting a Pet

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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.

Gulf War

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Someone's ass should be kicked.

The Kill

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I kill because I can’t stop. I kill because I can.

concession to the shapes of hunger

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(no one need fear timidity in our tastes― / we like trying new things, no matter our hastes!)

Jackie Kennedy, Marge Simpson & Longevity: What I Learned From Magazines This Week

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The title of the overdue book returned to a public library in San Francisco 100 years after it had been checked out? Forty Minutes Late.(Readers Digest, 04/17)In 1999, Kathy McKeon, Jackie Kennedy's former assistant, went to a Halloween party dressed in a Marge Simpson…

Aluminum Canoe

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"Don't stab me with that," says John.

The Budweiser Sign and the Ghosts of Saturday Night

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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…

(On Tuesday...)

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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.

Suicidal god

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My dog’s on suicide precautions. I had to take away all her eating utensils--even the chopsticks. So now she has to eat directly from the bowl. It doesn’t seem to slow her down.

The Face of the Moon, And Another Story

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For example, I never noticed that the moon had eyelashes, not until tonight. You said you couldn’t really see that, not at all. You preferred the fact that the word “lunatic” sounded like an attic on the moon...

The road is nothing but a blind beggar banging a tin cup against the sun's piled up with snow front door

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alright, alright but not so much of a friendly little cigar-chomping companion-like a friendly ghost! That sweeping hair of longed for sleeping only awaits you once you've drowned too …

Quatrains Written on Stolen Time

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It is the fragrance of decay/ as paint, polymers and dyes/ outgas molecules of themselves

conversations with the psychic

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She told me in all my past lives I’ve always been a woman, and I was stuck in this relationship and you weren’t coming back, so I should just move on and get over it. I was a little sad, but yeah, I knew I was going to go back to her one more time, just

Famine

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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

Four: Of Moths, Poets, and Streambanks

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“And what kind of man would prefer all these dusty old books to my physical form? Who would memorize archaic incantations, when he could be whispering in my ear? Why search for the ancient splendors of metaphor, when one could be searching for the ...