1308 0 0
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He thought of natural violence that had to do with the wind and the Atlantic Ocean. He thought of the Gulf Stream, that important title, that someone had shown him on a map and explained about in detail.
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1308 5 2
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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.
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1308 2 1
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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.
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1308 0 0
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a white rabbit with a dirty monocle and a straw hat regarded marsha from the grass at the edge of the mud.
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1308 6 4
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There are no risks left to take. The notion of solitude hums with happiness. Bees gather particularly good honey and a hurricane stops suddenly, deciding not to embark on its natural terror hunt. And I just keep avoiding the knives, the pills and the…
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1308 1 0
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1308 3 2
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"May I help you?"
She was beautiful.
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1308 8 5
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I know you probably don’t want to hear any more of this nudist stuff about my family and all, but this Reamer guy was a red-faced German boozehound if there ever was one. He married my brother’s ex-wife Beryl, after Harris left her to her cheap red jug wi
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1308 0 0
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No one wanted to bear witness
to this grand emasculation
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1308 6 6
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Two girls, twelve years old, run down San Pedro Avenue past the market, the middle school, seven driveways, their small chests heaving. The smooth soles of their Mary Janes keep slipping on the gravel driveways. Two men in a rust-orange van bear…
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1308 14 6
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Dead drunks sing Christmas/
songs-
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1307 7 5
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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…
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1307 12 8
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What does God find abhorrent?
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1307 6 5
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“You look so … distinguished.
My!” she said.
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1307 1 1
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In my dreams, I feel my dreams fade away.
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1307 11 8
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how much is downed/
to counteract the down/
with deeper down.
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1307 3 1
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Since we are heading past the outskirts, we find ourselves with a hidden reserve of valor and ability. What is this ability? It is the way we look now at strange new clouds menacing and waiting. It is also the way we head forth into them and their environ
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1307 3 3
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in case something went wrong
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1307 3 2
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A parody of John Ashbery I have been preconditioned likewise by the ligatures of the roof. It has bypassed even the lightning. When I started this essay I (poetics equalling dissemination, like a toilet plug) admired, and I in the book produced…
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1307 0 0
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Who remains after the aching night has departed into dawn
and left us to week-old sleep
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1307 0 0
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No one would have picked me out of a crowd as the morbid one, but it was true that thoughts of easy exits floated through my consciousness regularly.
I did my research—the easy methods, painless, guaranteed methods—and felt prepared to do, well, w
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1307 8 2
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The sometimes shiver that arrives from awkward silences and the more often cold that comes from midwestern winters.
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1307 12 7
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If you find a lone, sad honeybee, buy a Habitrail cage and make it your new pet.
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1307 2 2
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This really bothered me, and I questioned my penis about it.
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1307 14 7
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A brief colorful season/
and then the fall as winds/
break the hold the leaves have
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1307 0 1
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He is poised erect before me. I take pleasure in soft skin that does not betray the strength of his cock, firm and yet vulnerable beneath my fingertips. With my hands, I coax him to his full length, girth. Tonight I ignore the heat of my Delta and bow my head in worship…
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1306 1 0
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A precious heart unfolding the joy within
Carefree play marked footsteps skipping along the way
Such wonders untold awaiting a time of promise
Stilled in the night by a grasping hand
Held down in silence fear feeds off this soul
Marking its to
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1306 2 2
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The mannequin’s blind eyes, open, green, serene,
Look away from the cross, her hand
Against our crotch, against
Our suffering, our agony of being
Alive and beating warm.
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1306 2 2
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1306 0 0
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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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