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A toast to politicians

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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.

you are the stem that rises

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In my dream I am the showy leaf, and you are the stem, and you are the strength. I am the leaf turning colors, my face flushed, the fine hair at my neck, and there is the deep carnal twisting around your stem that sends me floating to the ceiling over a

A Pleasant Fiction

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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.

Hippie Mix

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Let us talk granola and improvising on the margins of munchies and breakfast.

Backhand

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"You are stuck in the past like the jiggling leather of that wrestler's skin."

My Hero

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Anyway, without Mr. Little, my life would have been much more difficult after my father was arrested. It was difficult enough as it was. Mr. Little was my personal hero at a time in my life when I had very few people that I could look up to. The funny

Letter Home

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The pen point sits motionless on the paper...

Homonyms Explicated

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right/rite: Your touch smooth as impulse/ Swaying my mind

Irrational Obligations

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Irrational Obligations In honor of National Pi Day Any excuse for a circle, a way to pinch the day. They are calling it something like a celebration only with bigger words and too many numbers to count. We'll have to approximate the amount of joy …

Summer, finito

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one season slips into another

The Sun from Under Water

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There was a thing she liked to do in the pool—after running and sweating—and that was to exhale as much air as she could stand, then hold her nose and sink to the bottom and just look up at the surface of the water, the way the sun hit it, the way the liq

(2) 77 Words (pcs.)

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The sometimes shiver that arrives from awkward silences and the more often cold that comes from midwestern winters.

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.

The Little Dalai Lama at Grand Central Station

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He followed me through the crowds at Grand Central Station. Wherever I went, there he was, half my height, dressed in the characteristic gold and maroon garb, with a paper cup of coffee in his hand. He must have sensed something about me. Th

Song: Three Good Hubcaps, music by Tom Casesa

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NO3RAM7-ciU

Deity

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On this day, a blinding sky holds ribbed reams of clouds, staccato against staggering blue.

Assiduity Twenty Six

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Uzma and Luv are . . .

Lucid Sleep

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In my dreams, I feel my dreams fade away.

Closest Living Relative

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Uncles. Cousins. Enos. No matter how loosely a net is woven, eventually the strands come together again.

In The Place Between

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We played and had joy. As the seasons changed in that peripheral world, we did not feel it. We only saw the snow a bit, only felt the wind a bit, we were not really in it. We still kept ourselves busy. There was something that I did begin to notice. I cou

Brocades

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The creatures were thief-walking...

The Things I've Lost

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I might have avoided all of this trouble if. . .

My Bossa Nova Years

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It is no coincidence that the bossa nova craze coincided with the years in which I achieved my greatest romantic success--first through sixth grades.

How To Dismantle A Bell

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Pictures of war correspondents from The Tribune, and colonial photographs in a fruit crate

This Is How Far It Is

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How long has this been going on? the admitting nurse asks.

gravelortian part 5

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papa wants to dance - the future is so bright - feel good all the time baby

War Doc Week

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Douchey Jake made me cry until my eyes puffed so much I couldn't see through them. I said hey look, to my friends who slept on the futon, don't I look like one of those dolls with the real fake eyelashes? The truth is I've been pretending I don't…

Will Your Relationship Survive the Holidays?

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For eight years I have been living with a man named Darren Fletcher, who I will refer to as “Bud” to preserve his anonymity.

Joe

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Nephew Joe, my old brother's son, came to fix our pipes. Strapping, strapless, hairless, tanned, he clinked with gold. He came out to us over the pipes... drip drip...I just wanted them fixed pronto. He took precious time. He cried...drip drip...I wanted him to stop. My…

Geisha Doll

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I imagined cool, wet clay oozing between my fingers when I'd squeeze a tight fistful.