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So what happensTo the VFWIn a global economyAnd the monumentsErected in reverenceAfter the boysWho became menCame back homeTo be fathersThen grandfathersGreat-grandfathersAnd start to fall awayAs the days creep byThat petty paceOf politics as usualFamily DiasporasAnd maybe…
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we’ll never win/
the ongoing battle with dirt.
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At the annual Earth Day celebration, Frieda looked up in the sky and saw a lone goose. It had caught her attention with its call, echoing off the buildings and trees.
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We laughed like lords and lunatics
Our schematics stretched before us
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Last night I decided to go through my bag of wind and sort things out. I'm a hoarder, and wind is no exception. I collect winds. I found two siroccos, five simooms, three foehns, eight Chinooks, ninety gales, thirty zephyrs, two nor'westers, a monsoon, a…
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bullets in flight make sharp, snapping noises.
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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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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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Reverend Peter Roman could stand it no more. He stopped his speech. He felt a fire burning through him, a hatred for humanity and all the weaknesses of beings not perfect before God. He stood a long while, staring at the congregation. Then, he slowly spok
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Frank met Angelique Brody on the street in front of his building.
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[Lights up on CLAUDE. He's holding a letter, standing.]CLAUDE: Dear sir, We regret to inform you That your (that place with cream walls and dog hair…
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But even if the truth
Never sets me free
I'll know this ain't the end of me
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To politicians who think things will stop,
When they finally let slip and drop -
this government of ours we call
The ultimate power of them all.
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We pull up under the port cochère (which I am NOT allowed to call ‘the car tent’, even though I built it) just as the front door opens. Jackson, our eldest, saunters out with a dish rag over his bare shoulder like he owns the place.
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Her friend had been drunk, and sometimes after two or three quarts of beer, he'd tell people that he was Jewish.
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Rain and wind and the pecking of birds
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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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It makes me feel like a dirty old man: adorning Celia,
Making an offering of my blue dresses, adorning Celia.
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I was sitting there drinking with Paul at the bar, and it was a Friday night and I was I was feelin good. I didn't have to go to work in the morning, and I had a few drinks and food in me, and I able to that on da cheap, which felt good. And Paul…
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Since dawn doesn't understand my words, I will give them to the donkey, finely cut for him, let them ferment some time and add a few sprigs of lucerne. The donkey grazes in the meadow down the road and always welcomes me with a grin that displays his mauve gums and his…
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No one wanted to bear witness
to this grand emasculation
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Here’s a picture of you
Lit up by the internal light
Of the moon. It was a
Super moon that night
And the story of God
Had not been told
And we had to wait a good
Long time to hear it out in the cold
And I was the King of Fishers
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No preview available due to the brevity of the piece. In fact, this comment itself is longer than the piece.
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removing oneself sometimes occurs only on the page
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He stood with the bride of quietness / on the precipice of questions
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You welcome the new girl by putting a message on her back. I breathe harder until she pops or until you ask me what I’ve seen or until you see my hand turn into a fist.
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The rat had been informed, assured, cajoled in order to gain his assent—duly lied to, in other words, by the researchers with not one tear of remorse, with no smudge or smear of conscience . . .
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That is a six-word story. Notice that the meaning does not change with the word count. Syllabic count: pentameter (ten). Keep these commas.
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She said it feels wrong. Too wet, she said. I snickered, she smacked.
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