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You ask yourself, how can you be living but dead? It is not possible. Yet it can be and it can be slightly reversible, but realistically, for most people, it is not. Living but dead, is walking in the world of the in-between. Standing with one foot on the
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she felt something warm and wet on her ankle and it was producer #1's green tongue and he was still sitting down behind the table and it traveled slickly and caressed her calf with a sensuousness she wouldn't have thought something so ugly could possess
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IV. Upwards, into the white eye rising, There is will, to stay, yet stays no will to be. Come,…
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we can say all we couldn’t say
when the ears could hear us
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I'm not generally a believer. But I do sense things. I see things.
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In the center of the big diorama, the real world hangs in the air by a hook.
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Johnny K. didn't much like taking his exotic drugs any more. He now thought that the common reality was already an intense enough trip without wrapping it all up in enough gauze to cause permanent daydreams to the head. He liked his cheap hamburgers…
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The condemned, arrested/
and convicted as a consequence/
of cheerlessness, must be prepared
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It's hard not to sound dramatic when you begin a letter "On Earth..."
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Marie and Mary lay side by side, partitioned by flimsy blue vinyl on cheap plastic rollers.
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I've lost the remote control to my brain
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The brown grackle chirps/
as she chomps a plump cricket-/
melodious meal.
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If you stop, you starve//
and they just offer what you do/
to others, starved already,/
and schooled, as you, in servitude.
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In time's embroidery, the human storyis a short stretch of a short strand within the thread of half a knot-and that stretch of strand's defective. What will mourn us when we're gone?Not the plants which live so lightly on the earth.Not the scorpions and not the ants.Perhaps…
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My table offers up the gutted calf/
with carrots and potatoes yanked /
alive and whole
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Your face seems faint against the violet glades; The long winds echo once, then fail to start. Some wounding scent has stripped my hopes apart That dwelled to scent you. From the cavalcades The leaves make, bare at times since eve's sting fades To…
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His Danger Pistol was out of bullets, his Bag of Tricks was empty, and he wasted his last can of Antimatter back at the lab. All he had was his Charm and his wits. Charm wouldn't last forever, and he'd always come up a little short in the wits department.
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The man next door came over with a pitchfork.
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They might think that loneliness has made me gullible, more than willing to open for them all kinds of drawers.
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Jim Morrison moved
ever so slightly
in the cold of his grave
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It was a mildly windy day of the working week in the financial district of the city—the bright morning sun was out—when a security guard was called to the fifteenth floor to deal with a disruption.
“This way.”
Someone pointed to a desk. At the desk
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I lay on a table in a cold room in one of those little blue gowns that open in back.
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The feline apotheosis of Ish -
Shroedinger’s cat.
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Write me a Will you laughing boy,
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It was Wednesday, the papers had a food section that day, so the gap-toothed news hawker at the mouth of Winter Street would yell out “Foozection! Foozection!”
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Oh, crap! Once you leave your body like that, why do you have to come back down to earth? That’s what I want to know. I remember you wearing English Leather aftershave. Anytime I catch a whiff of it now, it brings back some intense memories!
And I r
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I see them walking. They pass right by my house. If I’m outside, I sit down on our porch and watch the parade. Sometimes I watch them out of a front window.
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Dragonfly She danced out of the burning rubble, wrapped in a shawl made of iridescent silk. It must have been her grandmother's. Her arms were wings, the silk translucent and fluttering. Fire fell from the sky. Thatched roofs, walls of mud-daubed sticks, the huts…
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