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waves at least this tall

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the mountains did change/became looming purplish waves/their spray washes us/we rinse slow 'neath lifted waves/that must be at least this tall.

What the Other is Thinking

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Six months passed and the lovers decided speaking was no longer a necessary component in their relationship. They did this over breakfast, delicately spooning pink triangles of grapefruit into their mouths. Not a word spoken.

Free Form Jazz of Spiritual Harlem

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we are one

Penultimate Vampirekiller for 2025

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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 . .

Decoy

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No one saw him arrive at the half-moon garden just south of Delancey, no one saw him hang his cage from one of the drainage pipes, but by the time the rest of us got there, the bamboo frame was already covered with silky, golden cloth that reflected the e

On Deciding Not to Be a Bitch

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Deny yourself that pleasure For my sake; that feeling beyond measure That you get when you finally, and with much angst, Decide not to be a bitch, to a round of general thanks.

Odysseus Remembered

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Years later Polyphemus still remembers the wine-soaked taste of Odysseus’s men. The barley and garlic-flavored Greeks. Their flesh a fibrous, blood-hued hummus. Their crunched bones releasing sweet marrow.

forgiveness

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she sees that no one has considered her needsshe feels left out, and so she strikes outon the offensive, nostrils flaringpoints her finger and makes her caseshe has been wronged, justified in her angershe will not back downthe accused one is hurtstrikes back with her own…

Rescued From A Dream

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There were six people on the bridge, myself included, and we were making our way across when something exploded—it was more a rifle shot than explosion, actually—and it cut like a razor through the delicate fabric of the moment.

Sanguine

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Gripping the sink, head bowed, I let the blood gather on the rim of my nose, pooling for a moment, before its fleeting journey towards the basin.

Bar at East Capitol Road

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My friend, drunk, spoke to me / outside a bar where we hung out; / and his eyes were red from tiredness,

Bog Crossing

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Written within five minutes, being a parody of the artless vacuity of observational 'poetry'(By Tedward Weeney and Seamus Spews) The large wind in the treetop tells the blackbird its own voice. The yellow grainyard resounds to the clodding of my farmer's…

The Suicider (Long Version)

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He woke up four hours later with the second worst headache of his life. He leaned against the car door, his face against the window, and pulled the handle to open the door, but it smacked against the back wall vibrating the glass against his cheek. He tri

Losses in Translation

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One/ can’t always trust the eye and ear// in such matters but what can one do?/ Mistakes will be made.

33 and a 1/3

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I've been in Tucson two days, and so far most of my conversations with my father have taken place while I crane my neck and squint into the sun. I scream up, he screams down. He needs to fix the leaky roof before the rainy season, he says.

One in the Numberless Series of Requiems

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We perform our chosen duty— naming/ beauties and atrocities within

twelve tines

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till the tiny death may we remain true, me and you, to our flesh and blood and sinew, the springs and silver in our tiny hearts with vicious teeth and a hard bone need to fuck

The Cold Bank Ravens

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In punch drunk waiting rooms... On election routes

Cracked Heart Reigns in My Eyes

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Rainy eyes fall fast somewhere close to me Riding the wind like lust

Yellow Cabaret

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Hail the yellow cab the yellow one will do just fine as second condiment to the sun

End Time

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and you fall down.

Changes Are

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When people drastically change everything about themselves repeatedly, don't they eventually just end up alienating everyone?

EXAMINATION

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I had the idea while I was in the county jail. I would get jail glasses; I wouldn’t be me; I’d be some other person. I could pretend that it was someone else rotting away in that 8x12 cell.

The Invitation

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The poet could not speak of himself but only of the gradations leading toward him and away. ~ Mark Strand

The Virtues of the Patient Lizard

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He will feast and die beneath the glaring gaze of the western sky, waiting patiently for what will come next

Boise Poetry Slam

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The boy buckled in and told his mom, “No mommy, I can do it myself”

No Prada, No Burberry, No Gaston Lauvert

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Although it was unlikely that she would witness mobsters racing up or down Wabash Avenue with guns ablast, she paced behind the hotel's ground-floor glass eyeing traffic for fifteen or twenty minutes . . .

The Thrill of a Lifetime

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I honestly can’t say, with Lynda, who cheated first. More than likely Lynda did, because I know she was pregnant when I came home from college for the summer (this was 1963) and we had to go out and find a doctor who would give her some pills to get rid

20,000 Years of The Apartment For The Dead

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He saw places that he hadn't thought existed. He found his analog from 17,000 years ago praying inside of a white pyramid in Kathmandu, and saw how the fireballs being catapulted through the air outside were stopped in midair by a beam coming from the top

Blind Jack

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The blind can be a little bit Angry now and then Trying to be independent They don’t want or need your help Usually. They’re a little like bees You have to learn to leave them alone But I remember one day when I Guided the fingers of Bli