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He will feast and die beneath the glaring gaze of the western sky, waiting patiently for what will come next
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the moon is coming back now the shadow hovering and shiftingthe clouds a passing shroud I didn't know if I would be patient enough but now the sliver of light is increasing filling in / filling out the circle I am surprised by how much relief I feel there…
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Writing opens doors to perception. For example, the glockenspiel smells of gardenias, but the catwalk is opening a can of Franklin stove. It emits fumes of fairyland and olive. And in the green and pleasant country of Scotland and England, vintage trains go…
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1242 2 0
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What I remember about my grandfather were his fart jokes. When he wasn't telling us kids about how young David defeated the mighty Goliath or how Saul the pharisee humbled himself to become Paul the Apostle, he was telling us about the baby burp that begg
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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
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Not quite full, but bright,/
December 23rd.__
A waning moon for New Year’s Day-/
Portent?
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I am young. This is years before I start to hide my accent.
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Us kids in left field steal out bedroom windows after dark to pinch hit Lucky Strikes between first and second fingers, arc the glow of shop-lifted hot-boxed cigarettes over the chain link homerun fence sprawl on perfectly ridiculous grass passing a bottle…
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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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As I was reading “Not Your Mother's Book on Home Improvement,” a new collection of light-hearted essays by (primarily) middle-aged female do-it-yourselfers, it became abundantly clear to me that, unlike the women who tell their stories here, I am not a…
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1242 2 1
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I woke up when the smoke alarm insisted. Either the curtains were on fire or I hadn't changed the battery.
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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.
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1242 2 1
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The girl lifts my head, and I sit up straight once again. She hands me a pair of old work gloves, helps put them on my swollen hands. She wipes my face with a wet, warm towel. Her thin arms tremble. She cries. I cry.
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Mother hated a crucifix. Graven, she said. Evidence that Catholics weren't saved, just stuck in ceremony. Jesus had risen and anyone who had to pray in Latin, count beads or confess to robed men who took orders from a monarch didn't know…
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1242 3 1
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okay fine, on the count of three
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My relationship with Uzma exists on several levels, from basic to abstract, from animal magnetism to spiritual journey.
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1241 3 0
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And I am reminded of river eyes:
The summer we slumbered,
Like mummies in the sand
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and you imagine euthanizing them if what she says is true, that she is leaving them to you in her will.
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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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Not all ideas are bad, just mine.
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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 . . .
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I am trying very hard to rhyme,
and trying very hard not to.
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purely fun,
humane, scientific,
old time religious
experimentation
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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.
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1241 2 1
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“What the fuck!” Duke muttered, amazed at what he was seeing in the darkened store. A thin curtain of smoke was rising from under the baseboard like an inverted waterfall. It stretched the entire length of the left wall. Holy shit, the joint's on fire! I…
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I remember thinking virginity was highly over-rated. Who really wants to be a virgin anyway? I got out of that state as fast as I could. Sixteen years (okay maybe 15 and a half) is long enough of not knowing what to do with your body. Screw that! But th
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One said 'Yes, I remember.' He was dark and tall and slender
A masterful pretender who laid roses on the floor
Appearing on the eve of morrow, so slow and full of sorrow
With a costume he did borrow, borrowed from the poet's lore
From the rare and rad
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I said he was cold. I said I like cold.
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