1288 12 5
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They talk but they don’t really / talk
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1288 3 2
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1288 5 5
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1287 11 5
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You burnish what is left
until it shines and call it
your own.
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1287 6 3
|
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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1287 4 2
|
But you don’t know how to fly, Bunny! How ever will we survive?
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1287 3 1
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When Beez and I were visiting D.C., Beez saw MDW after many years and said, almost so that MDW could hear him if he wished, “His hair looks like Beethoven’s.”
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1287 1 1
|
It was in his teeth. A blackness, a subscription to an outsideness, a painful contraction of burnt out trees scattered there among sand drifts and tidal debris. His face, lightly weathered and troubled, a tightness built into eyes of thought and separation. His arms, strong…
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1287 4 3
|
Man, this bearskin rug was a big, awkward sonofabitch on his back....
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1287 4 4
|
It was that special ache between heart and stomach that made me stop things. That ache that cannot be caused by the mere knowledge that you have steered your life into a completely wrong direction. To feel this pain, you also need to have no clue why and how it…
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1287 3 2
|
Self-possession. He had it. In his arctic white t-shirt; blonde haired, broad shouldered, unburdened. “I will make you love me,” he had said, in a bar.
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1287 2 3
|
I even listen to the Ugly Kid Joe version. I fall asleep perplexed and disheartened.
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1287 0 0
|
You seemed to have that leisure to walk about sweetly when I was with you, honey-singing the reward for the intensity of emotion you lunged about in. Nothing seemed like it was going to hurt or harm anyone, even while I was going nuts between the legs.
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1287 6 0
|
Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my…
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1287 9 5
|
Do you see the hot coals of doing? The way time sizzles or wilts…eat those coals.
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1287 1 0
|
Freedom brings its own fears.
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1287 0 0
|
Wait a minute, said Ben. What do we really know?
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1287 4 4
|
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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1287 0 1
|
He is poised erect before me. I take pleasure in soft skin that does not betray the strength of his cock, firm and yet vulnerable beneath my fingertips. With my hands, I coax him to his full length, girth. Tonight I ignore the heat of my Delta and bow my head in worship…
|
1287 9 2
|
i think god composed afternoons with crayons
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1286 3 0
|
Get a Hold of God
Get a hold of God, will you?
I have seen a lot
I saw
a Great Dane
licking the dew off
an orange bird of
paradise
Get a hold of God
and tell him that
Get a hold of God
and give him a piece of
my m
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1286 2 1
|
When she would leave my pillows still smelled like her. I would just inhale her for hours afterwards, sex and honeysuckles.
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1286 0 0
|
When we crossed the California/Oregon border, I had this
vivid image of sleeping bags filled with human bones. I shook
my head and the scene would not go away. The woods must be
full of dead campers, hitch hikers, run-a-ways, and black
teenage whores
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1286 4 2
|
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1286 6 3
|
While most spread their time in other occupation, I traveled through books and grew my imagination. I knew endless bliss. I was a book eater. I would just devour books that I loved and slug through those I didn't, just to make myself eat the truths and li
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1286 4 4
|
You go out on a night with no moon, when all the stars are flush in the sky, when all of everything, even you, is just a shadow moving softly, and I swear, you can hear it, if you listen hard enough. The music. It’s like it’s coming from under the ground.
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1286 1 2
|
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,…
|
1286 2 0
|
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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1286 3 1
|
The whole scene smells like paranoia.
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1286 6 1
|
I remember one time that summer I was with you (1964) going to a bar in maybe it was Melrose Park, or Northlake, or somewhere along Roosevelt Road closer to Chicago, not as far as Cicero though. I went there with a crazy gear-head named Roger Hudson, wh
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