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Our revolutionaries
Have evolved into gamekeepers
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We laughed like lords and lunatics
Our schematics stretched before us
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Outbreaks of mass communal dancing—sometimes referred to as “choreomania”—occurred in Europe with some frequency in Europe between the 14th and the 18th centuries.
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A bum leaves his shopping cart
in the middle of the intersection
at 7th Ave and Perry St
and walks away
leaving everything behind
Shopping cart gets hit
by an onslaught of
yellow taxis whizzing by
The contents flying out
into the hum
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far beyond the far beyond
sparkles the stars like sparkles
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I saw the shiny dime . . . .
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—Michiko, are you allergic to cats?
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Seems hot for a Thursday, doesn’t it?
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He stood with the bride of quietness / on the precipice of questions
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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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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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whatever weaknesses you displayed//
as empathetic human fellow traveler,/
your command of English survives you,//
on into the last echoes of the human/
once we’re gone.
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An eternity in a crashing moment.
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She arranged to have an abortion at a doctor Greene’s office, who practiced out of a converted house on Solano Avenue on the north side of Berkeley. I took her there the day of the procedure. You couldn’t go to a regular hospital to have this kind of thi
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She says, “He's like, the eighth wonder of the world.” She says this without irony, and this makes you feel embarrassed for her. The laughter in this small, smoky space is getting louder. You chew your chapped lips and put your…
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I do not jerk up to sirens birds doorbell shouts hello hello through the letterbox hello
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Then there she is, and she makes me love-sad; it's a vehement, absolute, hard love-sad no one else needs to understand, though they can see; it's an emotion so concrete it's felt from the chest, not from a tenuous concept called heart.
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a soft wooden clatter, wind-battered reeds/bound to the banks of ditches rank,/ill-purposed waters slide into low swamps/whose waters into rivers seep and crawl.
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“The minute I stopped wondering about
the meaning of life is when I
finally started enjoying life.”
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destroy the day
rip up the track
jump in the water
eat nothing but bugs
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I’m well aware of the shadow stalking just to my left, her mannish voice flirting with my sensibilities.
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Someone desperately dials a number.
Iris, draped tight.
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The boy stared out his window, noting the suns slow and eventual passing behind the distant mountains. He saw his face reflected in the window pane and turned away. His shadow loomed…
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. . . we agree that formal standards for identifying literary merit exist and are capable of being discerned, not merely of being ascribed. —but is this itself true?
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Ben was stuck between sweet essences and rancid Talmudic funk. It was going to be a long trip.
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Between the commercials, the local news is rampant with fusillade of bullets going raving mad, driven by some Machiavellian brainfuck, or bombshells smiling down with angels in black; emoticons of solid metal and pride. But you would put your faith in…
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Standing there as you walked away from me that late March afternoon, in the park off Meridian Street, the spring tableau seemed
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She said it feels wrong. Too wet, she said. I snickered, she smacked.
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