1390 8 5
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Have you measured the cups, the conveyors' yield? Do you know the span? I am the LORD your God, she murmured.
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1390 0 0
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After he was wounded in Iraq, Wilson Jenkins came home to Monroe. He had suffered two wounds. The first was a waxy-looking scar on his left leg. A twisting crevice of flesh, it started inches above the ankle and ended on his outer hip. In the field hosp
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1390 4 1
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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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1390 6 0
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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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1390 14 8
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The old lady is losing her memory. She forgets people's names yet so familiar to her. A little sheepish, she takes her basket and walks to the village. Just like when her legs were young, suntanned, shapely and attractive. Along the footpath, by the shop windows, over the…
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1390 3 2
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A short time ago, a man who lived near me got angry. He woke up one morning and torched his house, with his wife and stepdaughter still inside. He drove up I-35 to the Georgetown airport, got his plane, and flew it into the Echelon Building in Austin.
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1390 2 2
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On Monday, Michiko returned from Cleveland in a foul mood. She called Frank’s studio at three in the afternoon.
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1390 2 0
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The perfect murder, and it’s not even murder.
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1390 10 1
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I saw a woman / at the bar tonight
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1390 4 3
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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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1390 2 1
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My mind is on idle as it knows no other way to go. I look for good news, but if there is any, will I be able to process it?
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1389 6 6
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I'd like to grow you a new flower. I thinkmaybe I just will. Right now. Here's as good a place as any. Well you'll probably never get to see it, but it will be there just the same and it will be all yours. Kind of like these poems that I make if…
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1389 0 0
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She was sitting in her swivel chair talking to a girl who was her younger image, ...
“Well, there you go, I’m a fire sign and you’re an earth. That’s just the way it is.”
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1389 10 9
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Your tunamelt cadence / Sank me to ocean floors
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1389 2 0
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I’m starting to feel more interested in my savings account.
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1389 0 2
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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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1389 6 4
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My head is nailed to yesterday.
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1389 1 1
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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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1389 2 2
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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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1389 2 1
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So you printed your resume on this coffee cup - that’s something
- I wanted you guys to think about me every morning - while you were getting your coffee
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1389 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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1389 8 6
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The bar was packed. Fascinated, Tom watched the shenanigans going on around him.
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1389 5 3
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I don't look like other poets. /
People hardly believe it when I say /
"I write poetry, sometimes. /
During lonely evenings."
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1389 5 5
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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.
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1389 9 5
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I want to write a story about a woman who lies to men about her height.
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1388 5 3
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You are nothing but a generic white man with average looks and intelligence, trapped in an indie romantic comedy. You sit in your overstuffed coffeeshop chair, drinking an impossibly befoamed cappuccino, the sleeves of your flannel rolled up to your elbows, mellow synth…
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1388 4 2
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Some great, doubtless precious;
some hollow, likely empty;
some only shards, but you never know...
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1388 1 0
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1388 0 0
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It’s that time of year. The combustible mixture of booze, poinsettia corsages and the soulful sounds of Eddie Venturi and the Fastidians will cause people to get up and dance at holiday office parties who have no business doing so.
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1388 2 1
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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…
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