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Just like real life before poundsigns.
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You and she might make love here, next week,
and I'll buy my own razor, switch from baths to showers.
I shave my legs in my imagination.
They, like life, are smooth.
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contacts, false eyelashes, strappy open-toed sandals
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Some nights I want to take my father’s glock / and build my skull a sunroof.
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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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A sizzling as skin and sinew melt, fall away. "Scream if you need to scream, child." And I scream, and her song gains strength. The warmth of her around me. It is time.
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Picture it-/
air not clogged with the shit//
that makes Beijing the dark joke/
of the developed world.
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some are cameras, some are daggers, some are sauces pans, others are swords, and some will run off and others will burn a hole into the spot which they land.
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". . . Stinkin' vampires, death to all of ’em, them and their plague-festerin' rats. But the new ones, I don’t mind takin’ ’em down before gettin’ rid of ’em. —But you’ll never get that smell off o’ you if you use only one condom, I’m here to tell you . .
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I got the news that you had died as I was
eating American chop suey, watching the Celtics.
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The Muse//has used/ me up
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An electromagnetic pulse/
scrubbed the servers./
The clouds wisped and blew away, empty./
Markets lost what little mind they had.
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...she had marked the stars with a blue pen, connected the dots to make Andromeda, Cassiopeia, told us of the gods behind the stars...
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He is sitting in the infinite rain
and the water is making him some infinite silhouette
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Publisehd in Linguistic Erosionhttp://www.linguisticerosion.com/2014/08/the-frog.html When Jesus and Magdalene began to cross the sunflower field they met a group of boys, squatting before a rocky outcrop. Covered with…
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the sour waft of a secret
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Frank was about to take the first bite of a chicken salad sandwich.
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1Paradise Lost is cast into the lake of fire. Satan tells John Milton to rewrite it in 140 characters or fewer.2Filippo Marinetti languishes in a dismal rural idyll. His hand, possessed, scrawls euphonic odes to the moon with a quill.3Henri Michaux floats through the…
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You're sitting in a darkened theatre with Gothic ceilings and one exit watching the latest Alan Ladd film with William Bendix and Veronica Lake.
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I saw three kids the other day, two girls and a boy, crouched in conspiracy
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We exist to facilitate/
successful conclusions of hopeless lives.
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Early morning cokeBottle. Did Katie callHeiddegger "Skippy"?Remember years backWhen we studied so hard andHa ha, just kidding.As you age, neverForget you are dying noFaster than before.
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The oval-shaped, pearl-white objects shimmered soundlessly in the warm sunlight. Suddenly one object veered off and headed towards them stopping to hover not twenty feet away. Suddenly their phones vibrated simultaneously. They both looked at their messa
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A gentle man,
and a fierce woman,
charmed one another
in a shaded gazebo.
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Before you tripped on the third rail, you were like any other: coat a shard of midnight-blue, eyes filled with gratitude but for nothing. You were a lost coyote on a snowy hill. With sad magnificence you wandered, terrorizing passengers who secretly wished to pat your…
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Hail the yellow cab the yellow one will do just fine as second condiment to the sun
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1342 2 1
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Where are you going, boy who never was?
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1342 6 3
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If you shoot at them now, it'll be attempted murder or, worse, premeditated murder.
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The retired, widowed receptionist slapped one hand to the base of her throat with a gasp . . .
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