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Ambassador of Nowhere

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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…

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 48

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If you shoot at them now, it'll be attempted murder or, worse, premeditated murder.

(children, children)

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Her name was Carrie. And yes, it was love at first sight. Yes, she was a client, and you were supposed to keep your hands off the clients. Everyone in real estate knew that. She came into my office and took a seat in the reception area. I had a listing on Cedar…

Commotion with Coffee

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The retired, widowed receptionist slapped one hand to the base of her throat with a gasp . . .

If Only it Were So

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In the moment I crinkle the aluminum foil, The sandwich now a deeper Part of me

Another, Another, Another

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It’s just another Day where I feel tired, but I Don’t know why it’s so.

Faith in the Rest

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She had the smile of a pixie on mushrooms in a disco ball universe, and I dug her style.

If Hell...

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the sour waft of a secret

Nora and Paul at the Coffeeshop

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The woman tapped a dark plastic stirrer on the tabletop in front of her to emphasize something she was saying.

In the Tent of Princess Citronella

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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…

Zwarovski Crystals

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It was 14:24 official eBay time. Louise had spent hours looking at over 30,000 items under “Elvis Memorabilia"

aromatic

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this bleeding sun, clove studded & seedless

In the Pink Distance

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in the pink distance / a boy in a corduroy shirt / sits before an upended electrical spindle / and drinks a vodka gimlet

Next Time, Academics

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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.

Model Home

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In the living room of a model home, Mr. Jorgensen lived. He was a mannequin. He spent his days in display windows. He spent his commutes displaying the latest model cars.

Underpass

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The real problem, though, was the radiator.

Bringing a New Poet into Your Home

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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

Fourth World

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Where are you going, boy who never was?

Getaway

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She’d picked him up at a party freshman year, calling him Danny. Until then he had always been Daniel. He’d said nothing and his name was changed.

COD: Extreme Hunger

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Mid-laugh, Mr. Adams caught himself. His eyes welled, flooded with guilt for chuckling at his son's funeral.

Metropolitan

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Metropolitan I. Atlantic harbinger of this our swaddled dawn: Mistaking moon's sea sweep for this the frown The sky's plain-countenanced creatures maytimes weep Upon the surface-sundown of our lawn, When gaily surfaced for…

The Blueberry Man

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It was a Thursday. That's when I found out about the blueberries. Those precious, round little wonders, now forever untouchable.I left the note on the ledge of the balcony, taped down so it wouldn't fly away.It was going to come to this, eventually. After…

Gonadista Blogsdashiva

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"Shouldn’t I be able to easily get my arms around nothing?”

Session Fifteen

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"That it was my stepdad's fault."

Audience

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At 19 words, the whole piece is a snippet.

Caitlin's Boots

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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.

Dysplasia

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In my mind the village of 300 souls is called Nedoweska, but I confess that that's just a dreamy nickname I had for it as a boy. For various geopolitical reasons it had since become noteworthy as a historical site, though our interest was purely personal.…

On the Way To

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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.

Carmenère

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Lips to graceful curve, / Found a well from which / This dancing lifeblood comes / (Again and again)...

Bible Stories for Atheist Babysitters

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What the five-year-old I baby sit for wanted to do yesterday was torture his Barbies. “Why would you want to do that?” I asked.“Because we're bad guys!” said Hanina. “Can't we be good guys?”“Not today. Today we're bad…