1245 5 3
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I build pedestals.It's hard workHeld together by sweat, love, and lofty thoughts - an unsound foundation.The tiniest bit of heartbreak,and it comes crashing down. Always, I blame the builder and not the vandal. The next one will be…
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1245 0 0
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I watched as you tried to fit yourself quite awkwardly into the small chair. Your eyes fluttered curiously around my house, and I smiled to myself. Your vision landed on my smile, and your face wore an expression of puzzlement."What are you smiling at?" you asked, your…
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1245 4 4
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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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1244 7 5
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Does sound shape silence/
or silence shape sound?
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1244 9 4
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My time glass allocation nears its end.
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1244 0 0
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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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1244 2 1
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I tried to enlighten them. For my trouble, they tried to have me deprogrammed. I condemned their narrowness of mind; they pitied me my naiveté. I ridiculed their religious bourgeois complacency, but they really didn’t know what I was talking about.
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1244 1 1
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We can’t see anything except for glimpses of the other’s eyes, hands, mouths when we move.
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1244 3 2
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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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1244 3 0
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There was something about the boy that made me uneasy. Maybe it was the reverse widow's peak on his forehead or the way he wiped away his snot with the back of his hand. It could have been his red flannel shirt that reminded me of the hillbillies from the mountain…
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1244 1 1
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I noticed Sean changed after his grounding. We no longer played night soldiers around the block, no longer biked to the creek to catch crayfish he'd crush with his boots. Sean stopped hunting lizards, stopped charging smaller kids toll to pass…
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1244 4 2
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As the silence starts gashing I decide it's the moment to take all my thoughts for a walk; To a sound like a million lightbulbs shutting their fuses I resume my view, Across the sun-strobe streets with blind nightlamps; the safflower sun is lopped on its stalk …
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1244 6 3
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The moon was out. A bouncing ball but suspended. I shall never have a baby, she said. I am not prepared to go through that pain. Also, I for sure would not raise them up if I had them with religion, which is just so much superstition. I'll be a fellow this…
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1244 3 2
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Lying in the blissful glow of young television.
Idly sleeping, eyes open and ears closed.
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1244 16 11
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On Monday, May 7, 2018, at the age of 67, I had a stroke.
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1243 6 0
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The arid paramour,
your breath is hot, dry, cedar.
I sweat you corpus fluids and salt
and the unnamably impure.
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1243 6 5
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“You look so … distinguished.
My!” she said.
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1243 1 0
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I do not jerk up to sirens birds doorbell shouts hello hello through the letterbox hello
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1243 6 5
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1243 0 0
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His cheeks were extremely pink but the pink was not the shade usually associated with good health, it was the pink of Death.
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1243 1 1
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Our revolutionaries
Have evolved into gamekeepers
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1243 0 1
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It makes me feel like a dirty old man: adorning Celia,
Making an offering of my blue dresses, adorning Celia.
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1243 3 3
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how enthralled might you be, or how much appalled,/plucked from a fresh dream that had just grown serene?
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1243 9 7
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The same, some things you Can't explain, most trees Have felt it go bone dry at the roots before. I've learned to let love Go bye bye. You think they don't Want to answer your pathetic knocks, But they're…
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1243 4 3
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Reams of saggy bunting intersect the streets.
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1243 0 0
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"Man, I'd love to do coke chopped up with the remains of this motherfucker," he said as the unicorn's head smacked against the screen of his netbook for the 12,364th time.
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1243 8 2
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The sometimes shiver that arrives from awkward silences and the more often cold that comes from midwestern winters.
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1243 2 2
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mind heart soul will blood sweat tears muscle, and bone,/and then always something else—not more, just else . . .
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1243 2 2
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They can’t help
Seeing a child even there
In the crude brushstrokes.
They say it is me.
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1243 3 2
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beyond knowing that when it hits you, you've been very much run over, and flattened like a stack of cardboard pancakes. I've seen it all before, and it works all right I guess. But my oh my, my, my oh thank you Jesus, to…
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