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June Cleaver Faces the Implications of the Integrated Circuit

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The Cleavers were never really undone by anything. Everyone, however, has a limit. June manages it all, as usual, with her characteristic grace, lovely crinoline - and a bit of manipulation.

The Man Who Suckled Elvis

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No one wanted to bear witness to this grand emasculation

Variations on a Theme by Pina Bausch

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Threads of sadness in the hands, in the touch

Busking for Free

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I'll always remember those warm, weekend twilights on the beach after the frolic of the waves seemed to flatten with the impending dusk, sending the surfers home and, after the bait was spent, sending the surfcasters away, I'd claim a square of sand as my stage,…

Love Note to/ Legal Pads

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toe and hand-/ holds against/ the shear cliff

Five Million Yen: Chapter 52

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—Hey, lover man, where’s my breakfast? said Monique, tousling Ben’s hair.

Precipice of Questions

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He stood with the bride of quietness / on the precipice of questions

Precisely

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Is it my imagination, or is her chair afraid of her?

Too Far

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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

Scottish Independence

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with peaty aromatics, opened,/ and a welcomed sting, swallowed,

With Respect to a Fellow Poet

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We do not all love each other for the sake of our shared art, apparently.

Starting Over 1974

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Stone-gathering became my job by default. Digging the foundation, trundling the loaded wheelbarrow away from the site, yours.

November

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You sleep in equative lip biting slumber hugging a pillow you think is someone else.

Sunday Morning Series- 5: On Divine Intervention

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What does God find abhorrent?

Standards

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All I ask is that the guy has teeth and an income. More important are the teeth because he can always get a job, but he can’t un-rot the teeth he’s lost to meth.

And You--And You--And You

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“Good to see you, old man,” Greg said. He was like that, an investment banker, a latter-day Tom Buchanan without the polo ponies, self-consciously fusty.

Lazy River Blues, or Stuck Between a Couple of Exposed Roots and an Endlessly Restless Shore

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Our Sun bites down on the eager yet pouting lips of the softly puffy looking moon, but a jealous & runny cloud interferes with this story line just long enough for a little bit of fun: a young dancing tree washes her gold and…

we used to drop her off along the way

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We do it all the time...

American Passage

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The moon, a cataract cloaked in its charcoal fog, slowly seeps among the trees; night's unguent.Its glance is constant and white,its arc known. I watch its brow of bone with constant wonder.The long, slow funeral of America is taking its time; its…

Visiting Mom's Family in Oklahoma

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The strangers say hi at the Piggly Wiggly grocery stores, compliment my gold necklace, tell me I'm as beautiful as a Southern Belle, ask where I got my Gucci shoes. “Wow, New…

Uncle Max

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Before Uncle Max died of a heart attack, he had some words of advice for his only nephew and godson. Upon his death, as instructed, a package in brown paper arrived at Jeffery Glimson’s house on a warm June afternoon.

postscript

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the sand is hot to walk upon so you must run if caught there w/out footwear. it is like a painter has colored the sea and made parts of it dark blue yet other areas green. little birds jump around the fine grain world and that is when you wonder where they came…

Stump the Nuns!

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“It's a combination of ‘Survivor' and ‘College Bowl' says Sister Mary Agnesita, the show's host. “We take four very strict nuns and match them up with boys who were cut-ups in their grade school classes."

Cassandra Folds the Poem in Her Hand and Loses My Heart in the Process

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Ours is but the very small effort being made here.But it's a good enough keeper for all of usto always remember off. All the tins thataren't really going to save usfrom starving, now are neatly arranged all around, justin case, stacked…

Ennui

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I've done the math, it didn't count. All the days and years of endless boredom. Of waiting for the next best thing, trapped inside your mind like a lifetime prison sentence. Maybe one day we'll be free, maybe one day we won't feel so oppressed. But when does that day…

What happens when you listen too much

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It's definitely not her pretty face that made him smile so quirkily when she returned in the evening.

The Fake Humility of Stars is a Terrible Thing to Waste( in Three Recycled Parts)

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F Bomb I am coming in like a blackbird. Like I'm going to tickle your mud. I am coming in carrying a half-sunk message backward. Is that your lonesome answer? I am coming in to sweep for all saints. 'Course I didn't just wake up…

Love Poem

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I need to be not sure

Struggle for Life

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7.53Another morning ritual. Trying to fill the loose ends of time in the early morning is a task.7.54I've done about everything, too early to work and too late to go back to sleep. 7.55Trying to avoid the nausea of life at all cost. My mind is a snakepit, filled with…

Redneck Haiku

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some local color Haiku