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An hour later, we're no closer to the tunnel. In our rental car, we're just two in a school of a thousand fish skimming the edge of the island. Go with the flow, we keep saying to each other. We're just going with the flow. …
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"Commander of the Armies of the Four Winds" concerns a nightmare endured by Commander Daniel Bennett of the San Diego Police Department after he is assigned to recover the stolen Necromancer Artifact, which purports to invoke nefarious spirits imprisoned
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That twig looks pretty dead to me,
He will never ever be a man.
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Whatever you have,/
we can monetize it
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He licks his lips and mouths the air, salivating, unashamed of his propensity for the round, pink grapefruit, the almost egg-shaped oranges, the firm, juicy tangerines.
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The man next door came over with a pitchfork.
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machine utility of thought,
intangible aesthetic of sentiment.
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It's not a funeral. Nobody to mourn over.
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You can have two threes, or three twos. I hear the beat both ways. It goes back and forth in my head, like magic, transforming from one to the other and back again. And I am learning the basics of music theory, and painting geometric shapes with primary colors. I am…
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Welcome to the world of (un)reality television. He/she who dies with the most stories wins. Another kind of religion. The Church of Being Famous For Whatever.
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The arithmetic of human experience/
is always a losing game for some. Poor Jane. Rich Dick.
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Orchids strewn over the floor...
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we can say all we couldn’t say
when the ears could hear us
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The consequences follow from here:
the shine of forbidden knowing
the apple soon offered to Adam
the twined Serpent’s hidden fangs
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Hope is the thing playing checkers
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Does sound shape silence/
or silence shape sound?
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His only sibling had passed a few years back and his mother was the only one left of a gaggle of 7 brothers and sisters and their spouses. The turning of the generations, from birth to grave, was always a bit like the tilling of the ancestral soil. A new
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#whateverhappenedto #beforesex #whateverhappenedto #duringsex #whateverhappenedto #aftersex #nevertrust[written in August 2009]
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The Black night reached under his shiny silk jacket
And touched the steamy leather of his holster.
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A hot summer night walks into a bar and orders a drink.
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Darkness on my mind
doesn't make me blind.
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Moonless sky of stars, silently flickered by bats, with constellations defined and bold. The curve of the plough matching that of your shoulder, as if it were a decoration.
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I’m sorry. We couldn’t fix the country
and left her a bigger mess than we found her
Oil leaking from her shores
earthquake batter all over her skin
We couldn’t fix her, and we’re sorry
You’ll find her wreck in tatters
at the bus st
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I had this dream. We were living together, and we were in bed asleep when strange, enormous cats began crowding around our windows and meowing. They made awful scratching and scraping noises at the windows, trying to come in. But I couldn’t wake you up.
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Who remains after the aching night has departed into dawn
and left us to week-old sleep
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I invited Henry to go out with me and Marge, suggesting he ask Ellen who he dated a while back and who still asked about him, but Henry shook his head “no” and said “out things” were just too boring at our ages — and besides, since his…
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till the tiny death may we
remain true, me and you, to our flesh and blood and sinew, the
springs and silver in our tiny hearts with vicious teeth and a hard
bone need to fuck
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Writing books is like raising children. You do your best, nurture them, discipline them, coddle them, feed them, patch up their injuries, sing to them, try to sell them, but no matter what you do, they are what they are.
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Marcia
Get a load of
This
I got two pictures
Of food
Of food
Marcia
You're gonna
Love it
Look at this
I got one
Of just the salt and
Pepper shaker
God
You're gonna
Love this
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