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The Roman Twin

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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

Summer

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Précis Summer. Far from beautiful Prague, with its buzzing nightlife and pulsating, noisy crowds; away from the stamp, sway and spin, the odour of bodies, beer and cheap perfume; from the opulence and grandiose beauty, we sleep…

Laundromat Haiku

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Laundromat

Decided

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Millicent asked me to stop over at her place for coffee after work because we needed to talk. While pouring, she said she was torn about telling me what her father used to do to her when her mom was not around, but she thought I needed to know how twisted her life was…

The Broken

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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

The Anchorman

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Welcome back to our ongoing coverage of what we mean when we say "Tsunami: A Very Bad Thing."

Boys With Antlers, Girls With Wings

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Now that you can go to a body shop and get nearly any mod you can imagine printed and attached in about an hour, every cracker-ass redneck is sporting a twelve-point rack...

Deaf

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box

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.

Henry's Night

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Henry recognized the shoes. “There’s a little vampire came in with those on, but I last saw her over by the juice bar.” He couldn’t be bothered with Arthur’s “sections.” The club wasn’t that big that it had to be defined by sections.

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

Recycling Evidence

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how much is downed/ to counteract the down/ with deeper down.

Dongs

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[YOU BETTER BE READY FOR THIS!]

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.

The Fuckers

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The fuckers tumble out of the bathroom like clowns from a tiny car. The girl has these huge tits and dark red hair. She rushes past me, smelling like chocolate. A guy's behind her, holding onto the back of her jeans. He's not good looking enough to…

Barnegat Bay

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I whispered, “I love you” and then, “Goodbye”

Beowulf in Hell

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They strung him up, stowed on the balcony, and beat him with sticks, and beat him with rocks, and bent his muscles, …

Another Irresolute Essay on Lit and Crit

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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?

Un(en)titled

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Our trouble decided when the CUNY PhD student, a poet, cried out, “Racination!” during discussion of my poem.

Love Note to/ Legal Pads

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toe and hand-/ holds against/ the shear cliff

Salon du Monde

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I sit there reading a magazine while the woman clips my claws. From time to time I watch Kim’s face.

Further Conversation with the Author

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“After your death is confirmed,” I assured him, “a hardcover first edition of your books, will sell for millions at auction in New York.

Downloaded Cheats

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You are my intergalactic princess / The most beautiful in twelve systems

Shards

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But you're everywhere, how can I move on? It's so easy for people to say, Get over it, the ‘it' being the smell of your skin, your smile, the taste of your lips, always sweet and salty, like a carnival treat. Remember that neon night when we knew it was over, how we…

The Vessel

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For so long as I think I shall live.

Precipitants

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we’ll never win/ the ongoing battle with dirt.

Home, Soldier

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felt as if someone had pulled me in by the belt, or grabbed me by a knot in the hair, and kissed me with fire-engine lips. I was happy. I was in love.

Reading Without an ISBN

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The goal is to perform along with Jason Lee Norman--who is touring with his book of very short stories called Americas--a selection from my own collection called Country Without a Name. The symmetry excites me.

Return to the Nudist Camp

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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

Variations on a Theme by Pina Bausch

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Threads of sadness in the hands, in the touch