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We're The Atwoods

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I remember a time when Calvin, my husband, was like Winnie the Pooh and I was a jar of fine Provençal honey. No amount of my sweetness could satisfy his craving for me. He would spread me on his toast with butter at breakfast and mix me with peanut butter

The Mission of Dimitri Kastratitov

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A nuclear-plant fuel rod engineer, Dimitri Kastrotov, had an axe to grind, so invented an atomic deterrent, to counterbalance mankind. He targeted the filthy rich, greedy sons of a bitch, breeding war, weapons and nukes at a reckless fever pitch After …

Another Dream

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

Mutual Respect

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Then, relieved to have cleared the air, they peacefully returned their way of living.

Men's Hair circa 2000

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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.”

Chapel of a Latter Day Agoraphobic

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The thrum and the thrust// have beaten conviviality out of me.

RONDO ROND WE GO

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When he got to the office, he opened the drawer with the new can of fish food and realized he’d forgotten to buy a fish tank. He hated fish, hated the thought of a “hobby” but his girlfriend’s therapist had suggested it. Hobbied, hobbled, whatever

Pink

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Frank cut the tip of his finger off and it sort of shot over to the lettuce bin. The blood pumped out in tiny jets as he covered it with the palm of his other hand and ran to the sink. He pointed it in the sink and turned the water on, he could see…

Lucky in Love

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Clasped his hands behind his head to give a moment’s thought to love and how it had never quite clarified in his mind to run pure and sweet.

Almost There

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On the phone I asked my mother how she was doing. “I’m getting old,” she said. “Going slow. But getting there. I’m ninety-four!” My mother was always 94, when she was really 93. I remember she was 93 right after she turned 92. And 92

The New Lycanthropy

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Who remains after the aching night has departed into dawn and left us to week-old sleep

Border Town Dawn/There's a Momentary Cloud (Reach for the Sky)

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Border town meant one thing; we were caught up real good in the middle of something preternaturally dangerous; and understanding was at the very least a hundred miles or so away in either direction. All I…

Hey, Boys, Bandits!

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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

Shenanigans 4: mutual and selective congratulation

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" ... that’s a seriously good result for an opening night."

getting there

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Seems hot for a Thursday, doesn’t it?

Thank God the Sixties Are Over With! Is All I'm Saying

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I am surprised that you’re not famous already. I remember sitting in your bedroom for hours just watching you while you wrote poetry. I was in awe of you, thinking you were going to be the next Dylan Thomas! Or Bob Dylan. Or Dylan Somebody! And I rememb

Wanderer and The Temple

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the odd stone stands/taller than trees/it protrudes from the young forest/an old mecca but smooth

Sunday Storms

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Poems reflect their poets. / Mine: ugly but loved. / It is just as well.

The Cowboy of My Heart

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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.…

Johnny Bruzzone: Pool Hustler

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I was a coward and didn’t want to get killed like Heimley. Heimley was a nut at high school. I saw him myself one night put his hand right through the windshield of this car he was working on, along with a monkey wrench. Sure, he was drunk, but th

Desire

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The young monk rose early to jog, his appetites trailing like cats in heat.

Cannabis Emerges, Rampant

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What the hell is going on out here!? Yelled the man with the shotgun

In Battle of Mascots, San Dorito State Usually Wins

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“A lot of kids–granted, kids who aren’t too bright–will choose a school because of its mascot, and that’s what Chipper is all about,” he says.

It's All in the Interpretation

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a random sticker that says, Repent Sinner, and a club lineup snaking around the corner and sirens and that urine smell at alley's mouth

Tierra del Fuego

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my time there was not one afternoon not / one river not one tunnel not one falling

He is dying

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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

Day Off Work

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My time glass allocation nears its end.

Fur licking City Cats

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Howling, prowling, yowling Baby Dykes, stalkin' chicks, throwin' fits, takin' hits! A thousand thigh divin', rosebud nipped, fur licking dancin' cats, (Claws in, claws out! Yes!) sniffin' that cradle of love.

Bright Red

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They shoveled coal into the furnace of the city so the ghosts would be warm for their haunting.

Haikus for Miss Winehouse

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Drag queens weep sequins