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It's called the Knee Defender. But I prefer to think of it as the Schmuck Identifier.
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Character & Fitness, the opening chapter to my novel, "Death of the Dying City."
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I said he was cold. I said I like cold.
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The artist with fork and trowel.
The paint; soil, seed, seedling or plug.
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The boy buckled in and told his mom, “No mommy, I can do it myself”
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There is an old Indian story which says that if a person inhales basil fumes, then scorpions will grow in the inhaler's brain. We have basil growing all over our garden, so this explains the absolutely stinging sensation I feel in my cerebellum after cutting the basil hedge…
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I figured he knew what he was doing–he was the crazy one, after all, not me–so we took turns snorting lines of equal volume.
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we ran that afternoon/across Bayshore lanes/into green blooming fields, beyond all those
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I still wake up with a start to this day, remembering the sound of that squish. And the cheer from above of all the brutes hanging out the open castle window. And of course the roar of approval and delight from the hordes of Chinese, Russian, and Germ
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Wild bore the wind down on me, coming out of the heavens that turned around the stars of the evening. The longing and the appetite at work in the body, all tickling to open a girl’s mane, gaping, health-giving crossroads to the body. Hail and farewell t
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“Do you have a job? Are you going back to school,” I asked, you know, because I’m hip like that.
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The bar was packed. Fascinated, Tom watched the shenanigans going on around him.
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In moving crowds I plan to break you.
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purely fun,
humane, scientific,
old time religious
experimentation
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Flew a Messerschmitt.
Drove a tank over people in Poland
though not in Prague,
and claimed he was never a guard
at the death camps.
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That night, when Nostalgia knocked on my door just before dawn, I had just enough time to catch her coat as she slipped it off and staggered into my apartment.
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She sat down in the big soft chair in front of his desk. “In your religion you believe in past lives, right?”
“Yes, reincarnation is a tenet of the Hindu faith.” He replied.
“As Catholics, I think we believe that only Jesus had the power to come
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Anneliese inserted one of her crystal drops in Hymen's left ear and kept her left earring in. For a quarter, she bought a handful of cashews and plopped them on a red napkin.
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1. Lost in the Vision Matrix, J0hn Clare transmitted a distress signal designed to be audible only to himself.2. T S El10t ran on a complex algorithm that produced seemingly fragmentary results. However, if you run Imagewise an underlying order appears.3. C0ler1dge suffered…
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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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The poet could not speak of himself
but only of the gradations leading toward
him and away. ~ Mark Strand
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Tokarsky and I got chased off an El train by a couple of mean-looking black dudes who looked like they were going to crush us. I let go a spritz of tear gas that I had on me in the train and we ran as it came to a stop at the Morris Street stop. They chas
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He bounds like a lunar explorer into the Edinburgh Castle, the goofy porcelain busts glaring at him with contempt.
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Irony is written sarcasm. Sarcasm is spoken irony: the opposite of what is meant. Catholic irony in fiction seems deeper and more related to theme. Protestant irony starts with P as do other þing.
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About three dozen people, the doctor told him, dwelt in the small village until there had been a dry spell—a drought the likes of which no one in the region had ever seen before. Theories abounded as to the cause of the drought as theories do: a curse by
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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.
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circumstances//
squeeze the heart so hard/
that you should die but don’t.
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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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My heart was a puzzle completely incomplete,
until I learned of love in your embrace.
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I have never known how gold this time of year, With its palladium arcade, was, of the trees That do not sense the pleasure of their silence; Trees are egalitarian, they do not speak But concourse among themselves, consent to join us At this moment breathing…
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