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Losses

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Each day, I lose more words-/ nouns and verbs- but especially// proper names. People and places

Thanks, Target!

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A tanka poem inspired by the 40 million debit card numbers stolen from Target stores since Black Friday last month.

Omen

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The bird sat there some time. Several minutes. My wife and I grabbed out i-Pads and took pictures.

Paulie in Albuquerque

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Savvy as a nine-year-old playing poker with high rollers in Las Vegas, that was Paulie. She'd finally thrown Dick Weasel out the night before, but that morning Diana'd shot down their plan of sharing the house in a “man-free”…

A Walk Among Pigeons

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A Walk Among Pigeons I know these pigeons. They were beggars in another life. I may have been among them once, but then I fell in love, and when that ended, my spirit floated free. And I became, though somewhat battered and b

The Girl Next Door to Andy

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Then there was this short little girl, Jo Ann, who had a daughter and was divorced, who lived next door to my buddy Andy. She told me right after we did it one night that she had always wanted to have sex with me when she was growing up, as a teenager, I

Big Pig News

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A pig weighing nearly 300 pounds was discovered in the back of a wrecked car in Youngstown, Ohio. The car, a Nissan Cube, was totaled, but Penelope the pig was unscathed. The car, which belongs to Wendy Thrasher, Penelope's owner, was apparently stolen

Charlie's Travels

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Charlie Hancock missed the bus. Started walking.

Black BoBbY BuRiED

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Bobby turned black yesterday. Not like his ethnicity, or skin color. But his soul. Not his soul. Not black either. But a violet desecrating blue. That kind of blue that use to sit in the ocean, then dried up, and vanished into a big terrifying stupor. He looked at me with…

Revenge poem for Sara, following her disparaging remarks about my unfamiliarity with the literary history of the East Coast

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In distant climes ’cross landlocked plains, where history digs still-shallow roots, From masonry a statue looms And in her arms gay pigeons roost.

ancients

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rheumy eyes wink, gnarled hands pantomime

At Last — My Dream Come True!

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Some fiftysomething woman with a small dog in her arms was waiting for him, backstage. Security hadn't succeeded in restraining her. Strange.

The Lioness For Real

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you happen to me like motorcycle tricks

LOVE IS NOT THE ONLY THING

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When I was a very little girl—I was five—my mother and a black gentleman she was incarcerated with broke out of a mental institution and kidnapped me.

another love letter

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Liked and Similar

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I haven't been here in a while!

Table for One

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He keeps re-reading the menu but knows already how it ends..

Assiduity Nineteen

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Luv walks around touching everything with her little hands. Uzma follows behind her, talking sweetly, saying: "This is going to be your new home for a while, darling."

Tattooed Thumb

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A tattoo of a river steamboat, one you dreamed up in your sleep and drew yourself is anchored around your nail bed on your thumb. I paint my nails with regatta sails. The toxic fumes sting my nose. You say you're bored and take out a needle filling it with ink. I watch as…

Sharp-shinned

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Survival is often violent.

+45° 32' 15.91", -122° 40' 54.85"

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A bridge not satisfied with just crossing the river - It slashed through the sky, crashed through nature - Creating a new nature, a double-decker

*cute little space bat with scissors*

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I AM A FIRE SWAN! THIS IS MY QUILT! YOU ARE MY QUEEN!

Begonia {part eight}

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Like a scroll spinning swiftly before his eyes, he deduced that the tracks around him could have been left by nothing but a dragon. “Father God, protect her,” he said as the gravity of Isabella’s situation hit him.

Trompe l'oeil

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After her grief had subsided, the wife felt immediate relief. / Suddenly she was free to abandon or pursue loneliness

Chest Bump Bass Detroit

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son a superfly/alligator shoe clad/networking man/working a beeper and flip phone/twisting blueberry spliffs/on ma's porch

Birds Fly

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Birds fly and people hurry in the wind and rain like it's a matter of pity.

July Night At Greenlake

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In the vaultwhere no one had daredsince your first stillborn screamsI swept out your deadThe gnawing thingsboneless and dustyand stinking of churchesYou came to me thenand I took youthere in the shadowsunder the tree on the grassnear the reeds by the lakeI dived in your…

Miss Ang Has a Very Comfortable Life

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"Is all life suffering?" Miss Ang asked as she parked in front of the brothel. The concrete monstrosity stood humble and lost in appearance, but the locals knew what transpired there, as did the truckers and businessmen that frequented the Phetkasem Highw

The Story

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He pronounced the Afrikaans word with the vowel sound like the vowel in dour. It meant box, but it also meant cunt.

Kittens and the Hands of God

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As the breeze slowly died, another breeze brought her back up, one breeze after another like the hands of God carrying her through the sky.