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Quantum Quandary

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I love the notion of uncertainty-/ which seems inherent/ at the level of particles-

Here is the thing. No one knows what it (actually) represents

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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…

A Lapse in Concentration

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[...] A crimson post-it note/ illustrates the squiggle of a resting pulse wavering/ near the broken pencil leads and whorls of/soft wood which may be classed as evidence.

Ambivalence

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She said it feels wrong. Too wet, she said. I snickered, she smacked.

No Lions or Tigers, Thank Goodness

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I scrambled back a bit and found my feet after untangling them from my trekking poles. Really should have dropped those when this all started. The bear lunged at me with his teeth and I just barely dodged to the left to avoid getting something bitten of

Hashtagstory No. 1

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#whateverhappenedto #beforesex #whateverhappenedto #duringsex #whateverhappenedto #aftersex #nevertrust[written in August 2009]

Black Night Takes Bite

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The Black night reached under his shiny silk jacket And touched the steamy leather of his holster.

The Simplicity Being Enough

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You read my poems, Not because you like them, But just to find yourself, Mentioned in them.

Braque

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“What’s this? What’s this? What’s this?” said Pablo moving from canvas to canvas. He was stunned.

A Story about Tourism

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It was almost like I was dreaming, he is saying, my visit to the ruins of the factory that made the first Narrative Machines.

Out of the Woods

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No, your clever costume won’t protect you.

Precisely

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

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.

Blame It on The Good Stuff

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That was nearly two years and a thousand smiles ago.

The Fourth Prague Defenestration: 5

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Vladimir walked down the little path next to the creek with us. I stopped along the way and picked off a sliver of some of the bedrock that was sticking out alongside the narrow path, to take home with me as a souvenir of my family castle, just to be ab

Instructions Found in an Empty Can of Coffee

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If you find a lone, sad honeybee, buy a Habitrail cage and make it your new pet.

a grey green enamel vase in the rain

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we hover black as carrion birds with a glut empty need seems to me she's fell as thee and knows exactly where we posture anxiously spitting falsehoods on cue twittering like snipes cause there's nothing left to do she might have spent her whole life just

'Bout Time

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The Cat Pulls No Sudden Punches

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and springs its ready-made claws into action and takes a soppy chance that things will probably go its feline way today. But you, my friend, must you always throw the testing switch to high voltage on me? Yeah I get that the history teachers…

Another Time

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My boyfriend had to work but had gotten a turkey for free and thought I could make it for everyone for Christmas Eve dinner. I had never made a turkey before, and not much of anything else. Now if my sister had been there, it might have been a meal of cul

Snap

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An eternity in a crashing moment.

Men Go to Great Lengths to Woo Reclusive Poetess

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"‘Man-hater’ is such a harsh term,” she says. “I really like it.”

Silly Old Man Acting the Young Fool

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The green on your shoulder Is worth all their papery property taxes And then some. They cash in every friendship As if it were nothing more than a Ripened apple for pie. Get rid of The thing before it begins to Rot into some…

My Own Gun

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“What's a slut?”

Carnival

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I’m well aware of the shadow stalking just to my left, her mannish voice flirting with my sensibilities.

red lights alone

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before five/glancing down Academy Street/sloping west to where the tracks crossed/twisted tangled metal on wheels.

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.

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…

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…

Variations on a Theme by Pina Bausch

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Threads of sadness in the hands, in the touch