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(Withheld) 1970

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The Moon The hatch of the lunar module hissed as it opened, a few puffs of leftover water vapor escaped toward them in a sparkling white cloud that rapidly dissolved…

The Fall

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Tuesday is trash day.

Happy Christmas to my quantum mechanic-

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this elegant silver wrench/ which from the opposite side/ becomes a golden Phillips-head

Sorrow

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It's not a funeral. Nobody to mourn over.

A Losing Hand

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A group of us from work are playing cards at a friend's house, so when my brother Jimmy calls, I take my phone into the other room. I already know what it's about, really the only reason he ever calls these days.“Look, I hate to ask,” he begins, the way he…

Man on the Moon

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I even listen to the Ugly Kid Joe version. I fall asleep perplexed and disheartened.

Max Beckmann Poem

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the unutterable things of this world

getting there

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Seems hot for a Thursday, doesn’t it?

exile on and off the road

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had I gotten home without knowing it? well . . .

The Fourth Prague Defenestration: 18

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I went back to the Charles Bridge over the Vltava River and felt the plaque of the Wall of Gropers, and that was where we hatched our plan, in front of my ancestors. I could just feel their presence there. They would be with me, the Gropers of Prague.

Message

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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.

Sidewalk Cafe at Night: van Gogh

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while the fat stars stand out in the cobalt night.

Grand Finale

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Adam hitched his dinosaur to a covered wagon. He drove the Virgin Mary to the Faire. Shiva rode behind them in a silver limousine combing out his long and flowing hair.

Shaken not stirred

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The warmth of the sun

Another Dream

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“I fly in my dreams,” his mother said. “It's my privilege.”

ROAD TRIP

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to visit an old friend

OldSchool

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The gated community of Dos was named for one of Babbage’s landmark educational figures, Ms. Dos.

Ave Maria: Part 6

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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…

The Woman Who Loved Water

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I hear the woman upstairs running water. But that's incorrect. I should say the woman upstairs is running from water. She loves water. And water loves her. She loves cooking and doing dishes but especially running water. She runs water all day doing dishes, doing laundry…

An Elevator Door Opens

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What’s your favorite emotion? Mine is ripping the sky apart and standing on a star outside of time.

Needles And Sins

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They've put down roots under the dome. Want to push through the ceiling, blot out the sun. I have other plans.

Chopsticks

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They’re coming now. Thousands of them. Black wings, antennas, spindly legs.

Desire

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Dark morning sleet whitecrusts the world once more, shrouds remains of January thaw:

the dreamer of eggs

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How much sucking, faithlessly, can there be? The body being a night thing off which steam rises, that attracts like a magnet or loadstone, whose curls attract, whose ringlets or tufts of touched hair between the legs glory up the nightly watched miracle,

Citronella Socks

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a cat named email..

House Next Door

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It all began with me. I was first and for many years, the only.

A Harsh Pep Talk

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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…

Everybody Was a Virgin Once

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Most women simply don’t want damaged goods. That’s a fact I’ve been brought face to face with throughout my life. It's something you can continue crushing your brains against, like an impossibly high hurdle. At first you take the damage without unde

NO IDEAS FROM HERE

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NO IDEAS FROM HERE Tape The knife that tore the envelope tore the apricot. What was it? Water The boxes ranked against the open room. Watch So it was cut the water bright the tub. Say …

It's the New Age of Bullshit

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They’re young and haughty. 27’s still a long ways off. They read about the famous, not the dead. Dusty dragonflies will not land upon them, and they are really only in love with the dishwasher. Now there’s a problem. Poetry is dead,