1387 2 0
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Liking up with the Joneses...
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1387 7 5
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I dreamt, said the Donkey, of an apricot. An apricot the size of a heart. …
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1387 2 0
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I was about sixteen or seventeen when James Miller had a stroke and died. He was a friend of my father's and a preacher-guy. The last time our church had been that full was at the barbecue the weekend after the church was built. Somehow, the structure went…
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1387 3 3
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Today, I am almost entirely self-coincidental, though I still feel a lag lurking somewhere.
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1387 0 1
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the things we will accomplish, the things we will leave to others
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1387 2 1
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It's important to sound
human, I know
To get fragile
near your
mother
I myself
get glimpses
now and then
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1387 5 1
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Now that Spring has sprung I am reminded about the day a former neighbour complained about my squirrel collection. I love to feed the black squirrels that gather in my yard and she became convinced I had trained several ninja squirrels to enter her garden
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1387 0 0
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1387 6 6
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The entire room seems waiting for me like an octopus behind a closed, chained door. The monk of the lamp knows he will get his daily turn-on if he prays loudly and just enough for it. The favorite chair has my blue dent in its punched…
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1386 7 4
|
It was if you memorized my ever detail but not the why.
And perhaps that is what love is. Was that love?
I lie in bed waiting for the man who came after you
to join me. I hear his heavy footsteps and know
he wants to go to Hawaii too,
when our bud
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1386 3 2
|
"Don't pull too hard," warned Father. "You might sever it from the body, spraying blood into your eyes."
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1386 20 8
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I'm trying to make love to her but she wants to talk.
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1386 1 1
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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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1386 6 0
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“The first thing you must remember,” Polly tells the Levensons, “is that every penny you spend on your guests is that much less you can spend on your horses.”
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1386 1 2
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Before he became famous Faulkner was postmaster at the University of Mississippi Substation Post Office, a fact that endears him to mailmen around the world.
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1386 2 4
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What
I learned/one summer/in the North East/Thessaloniki heat was. . . .
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1386 3 2
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In the backyard with Joey, I make the mistake of answering him honestly when he asks what the gray brick in the dirt is for. “My parakeet is buried there,” I say. And he asks, “can we dig it up?”Joey's grandma lives down the street; he comes over…
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1386 14 5
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I suggested when we passed the flesh shack that we turn around and that I go in and say to the sex workers that the Russians are fetching $3.5K per hour in Manhattan and it's private, unlike there at that road-side shack.
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1386 0 0
|
My Mother always said that a storm was death knocking.
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1386 3 3
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She woke before the sun was up to brew a pot of coffee. His eyes blinked open as he lay in bed smiling, smelling the fresh coffee mixed with marijuana smoke. He walked to the living room and sat next to her on the couch. He rested his head against her shoulder.…
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1386 6 3
|
You may want to pretend to leave once or twice, peeking in through a window from a darkened room, to see how they interact. Never leave a new poet unattended with the pack until you’ve determined that the new arrival has learned to fit in with the other w
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1386 4 1
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In the morning I listen through an ear-trumpet
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1385 0 0
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The white Boeing 747, all three hundred and sixty eight seats of it, prepared to depart from Johannesburg Airport. Mild conditions on a clear flight path coupled with the soothing voice of the first officer didn't allay my unease. I offered a friendly nod to the…
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1385 3 3
|
Life's a beach? A bitch? Same thing.
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1385 1 1
|
Damn, the light turned
green
on me.
Wasn't ready.
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1385 1 1
|
Joanne Simpson sat in her pew of the church that dominated her tiny town, listening to the buzzing of disturbed voices like a hive of bees trapped in a wall. She knew exactly what was wrong. Some parishioners sat on the edge of the pews, while some whispe
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1385 2 0
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Her eyes still fixed on him as if to whisper her concerns of fidelity.
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1385 5 3
|
Her name was Christine
and she was nailed to the cross
of their lust
and their greed,
and their vengeance
|
1385 2 0
|
She had the smile of a pixie on mushrooms in a disco ball universe, and I dug her style.
|
1385 2 2
|
So young. So innocent. How do you tell a little one that her mother is dying? The father seemed to be bathing in a sea of hopelessness lately.
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