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A convoy of military vehicles is heading into the city as we are heading out.
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Reams of saggy bunting intersect the streets.
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We transplant helix° splices and
shoot back to meet our former selves, zip the
scrolls, and save the world. Then you said spin
so I twisted my jumper over and
over in
endless folds like lips, like vaginas, like
seacreatures
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When the telephone rang the fallow fields we lay in years ago became distant countries, filled with falling stars. The distant country into which you had disappeared became a pistol with a single bullet in the chamber.
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Wait a minute, said Ben. What do we really know?
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We were careful not to wake the kids & goodbye with a handshake & my skeleton is trapped with your universe inside.
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His friend Boner, who was more accurately a friend of Milo, who was a friend of his cousin in Dubai and who had, up until this post, seemed to share thoughts in common with him, posted, “Holy Shit, Dude! What’re You On?”
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Her Majesty’s Glasses
Umbilical Chord
Linger Finger
Okay Inkjet
The Dragon Flies
Horny
Free Spirit
Good Footnote
Buttery Clams
You’reUp
Empty Bladder
Star Butter
Karmic Impulse
Mr. On-the-Ve
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Better move ‘cause I hear them comin’ up the other side.
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“I swear that man is a force of nature.” This was her mother's way of describing her father whenever her mother came too close to the precipice. While growing up, she could never allow herself to fully acknowledge the meaning behind her mother's…
|
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... and that’s the story of the Polish worker who looks like van Gogh.
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She is not centered, but she finds her way.
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1313 3 1
|
Happens at a party, this way, past frat boys
perched in branches like idiot hoot owls,
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“I fly in my dreams,” his mother said. “It's my privilege.”
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I slept and it was pleasant. Then there was the kiss, and it was hot. Later you turned away, and all was November chill. Now there are touches, caresses and shouts, Marvelous nights flavored with favors bestowed, and blackened days,…
|
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|
Our ragged wits, ragged minds, after acting out all, imitating all honey-like tunes, air song, excellence of song, true flower of the world. So the sun has some of its honey wintered away, to bring it into contact with such a human voice as yours.
|
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Godzilla, Mothra, Kong, Rodan.
Most people know these Giant Monsters through the movies. What the majority of the population doesn't understand is, that these are monsters are real. Like the myths of ancient times, these movies are just a way that our
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and the President didn't call.
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|
so out to the night, and turning out the stars, so nothing can last, and nothing is taken in
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|
To The Graduates Of The Class Of 2010:
You are here today at a critical crossroads of your life. For most of your 22 years you’ve been taught to work hard, obey the rules, listen with respect to your elders and to trust that every effort you make wil
|
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|
Did I refer to Mark Twain’s typewriter as an animal? Did I call it a hyena? I would not say that about Mark Twain’s typewriter.
|
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|
hangs inverted and
begins a swirling motion,
|
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I. The cowboy of my heart rides high in the saddle. Behind him, the long tail of his speeding palomino, golden — like the hair to the girls I was later to want so desperately — stands straight out from his sweating, muscular haunches. It's time.…
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He began to chop the powdery substance and separate it into segments.
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I imaged him at his mother's house, eating chicken and tabouli with her at her round marble table, leaning back and laughing, then reading my “love you” and excusing himself to cry in the bathroom.
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Millennium jumped strumming lithium gum cumulative outnumber humiliated résumé jumpy instruments
|
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Lying in the blissful glow of young television.
Idly sleeping, eyes open and ears closed.
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On Monday, May 7, 2018, at the age of 67, I had a stroke.
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