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Looking down you wonder, when did I eat pineapple? and Am I really this awesome or am I a facsimile of something that really sucks, even if it's that 'it's so bad it's good' kind of thing? Nope, it's just bad.
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...come come come come...
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Robbie’s wrists itched hard, the cord was sunk in so tight his hands were bordering now on blue, now purple. Too late to matter.
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Jimi and Janis remain fierce and beautiful
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His nervous cackle makes me sick - Oh, if only - Times were different - That knife - Would fit so nicely in his back
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Everything I understand / is in danger.
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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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By the time the forked tongue of the flag extended flat like it was pressed between two of my thick volumes on weather forecasting, the man was still walking with his nose glued to the ground.
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Picnicking In Mt. Misery Cemetery We breathe the damp shade, plum trees shining in a woodland where there are few wrong things I want to remember-- the steel fence of the power company blazing under an arc light is one. On this day of ripening fruit …
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Liking up with the Joneses...
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My father owned a penny arcade. I worked for him every summer all during my youth. My job was to hand green tickets to customers who achieved a certain score on Skee-Ball or shuffleboard. The coupons could be redeemed for merchandise which we had on display on…
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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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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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this bleeding sun, clove studded & seedless
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When Jimmy – and Frank and John and all the rest – joined up, it all seemed a big lark. Little Mary – she can’t have been more than about five years old – was dead proud her Dad was going off to fight the Germans. I doubt she really knew who the
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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 first night we visited/ i stepped on a splinter/ while walking to the car/ and half-limped back,/ hiding a wince.
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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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She had endured three years of abuse for those hot, fleeting moments of tenderness—just enough warmth to keep her second-guessing the bitter frost. Now the ring promised a lifetime of biting back her pain.
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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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That was some root beer float. It cost us a grand total of $275.
She pulls up in front of Fenton’s Ice Cream Parlor and leaves the motor running while I jump out and run into the parlor.
It was early evening. We HAD to have a root beer float. You
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The house where my brother lived up in the hills above Hollywood, looked like any other suburban house on any normal street Anywhere USA, except that once you got inside the house — spread out at your feet was a panoramic view over a canyon that was act
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Every encounter is a dance, every secret has its key
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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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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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Frank was about to take the first bite of a chicken salad sandwich.
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While sipping Earl Grey tea in the tent of Princess Citronella, I could hear the nightime burping of several camels outside trying to settle down. A slight breeze entered in through an opened flap and gently vibrated a piece of paper the Princess was handing me. A dog…
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Clatters and clatters ensued, and the splash destroyed all denial.
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Tell people of substance the truth.
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A horn honks, brakes squeal, Chloe’s screaming, pulling at her. She’s lying on the sidewalk. Her shin hurts. Her knee. Chloe kneels beside her. Ring of kids staring. I’m good, she says. I’m good.
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