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This time he was dressed in a snap-brimmed hat, zoot suit with a gold chain and two-toned shoes; something out of a sad, lost Los Angeles past. I had no choice but to follow him as he walked down stairs that led to the Metro. We stood near one another,…
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her expressive sigh releasing. Sated. The last of our kind, evolving flightless we remain on the ground, culling through corpulent consumption.
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She sat down in the big soft chair in front of his desk. “In your religion you believe in past lives, right?”
“Yes, reincarnation is a tenet of the Hindu faith.” He replied.
“As Catholics, I think we believe that only Jesus had the power to come
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This energy said, "Fuck it, I am going to be the fucking sun."
In it’s language it sounded more like "Khershhhhhhh Hhhhhhhhhhh Zirshhhhhhh."
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The mist monster leaned over the building, drawing its face close to Mayumi. Its’ lavender eyes locked onto the Magi as she stood there ignoring Rumiko’s calls to flee.
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She's speaking again, this time in whispers. Her head is shrinking in on itself. If there is a way to save her I'm not aware of it.
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Her plastic shopping bag brushes your leg. You look into it and all you see is a 2 liter of Coke, a bag of Lay’s potato chips and a package of Oreos. It’s so oddly touching, so purely American, that your heart breaks a little bit. You want to hug t
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Gamo knows the Master doesn't make idle requests and orders the secret issue of weapons to the student priests, who now stand gathered at Kang's back. Swords, spears and shields are quietly handled and hidden from the Mantidean's view. Dr. Kang continues
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Along with Bad Bunny
comes the reckless dancing
the ambulance chases
and the long, drawn-on faces
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Violet goes with her mother to the home, delivering cookies to old folks. She's getting to hate how she goes along with everything her mother asks. Some of her friends are rebelling already, and Violet feels something under her skin. It's still just a dark shape, lurking…
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Today, I am almost entirely self-coincidental, though I still feel a lag lurking somewhere.
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I know I used to say I’d rather walk on the moon with my own rapacity. And you can easily say things like that, given the luxuriance of youth. But it was a lie, if you want to know the truth. That is only so much hot balloon air, puffed up in the chest,
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Cliffs are not all I've known, but I've seen them every day since I came to light. When I first broke out of the shell that protected me from feet and poisons, I pushed my way into darkness. It was soil. I could not have survived if it was light, and when I surfaced there…
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" . . . the government works for the aliens now, taking over the world. That's why everything's so screwed up."
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got the space heater going in the desert
got a lot of space out there somewhere
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He is underneath them. His head is like the head of a worm.
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Bud Light, B. O.
and Freeloader Heaven,
they step onto the
back of the bus without a cent
We pass by the Karma Wash
but no one gets off the bus
We pass by the
Endless Soup and Salad Kitchen
where we witness a crowd
swarming over a ch
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Lovell saw his chance, and more quickly than anyone thought possible delivered a sharp blow to Linehan's hitherto untouched jaw. The Irishman collapsed, and stayed down for the full count of thirty. The courtyard was then filled with shouts of incredulit
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I polished his shoes to an avid black; sewed buttons backand mended torn silk and cotton.His clothing was my busy work. Needle, thread, stitch, and iron,I was his apothecary of linens.Blood, wine, soup, vomit --these I cleaned too, until all theircolor and scent…
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“It’s time we moved our relationship back into an upright position,” I said.
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square mannequin-wives who can’t look in their eyes
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I've written of this and I've written of that, Have scriven as you have it either that or this: But if you strive against the wind when you decide to piss, They say, you'll find up firing against your hat- Like some old Brother who was broiled when…
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IV. From Hoover Dam The intent of passive presence wreathes an endless ring, Invisible, beyond all thoughts and change to sickness. This hour beats sibylline as vacancy, breathing Through mouths that do not taste their nothingness. I do not know where you are;…
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there is a tunnel / between your skin and the ground / for kisses to crawl
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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 ...
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I want to write a story about a woman who lies to men about her height.
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He sees the dogs through the window, his babies, sleeping on opposite ends of the couch. His girl, lying supine, hind legs spread, grotesquely, almost comically, as far as they can without being flush with the cushion. His boy, Cosmo, face down, the power…
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it’s more about how all those words look around each other. he’s more interested in the shape of things, than the reality....
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