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Closest Living Relative

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

Mickey and Harriet

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Ellie's got two parrots. She owns the house down the block to the left where the golf club owner fixes her grounds and garage because he can't stop working on his vacation. …

we used to drop her off along the way

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We do it all the time...

Her Smile

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The white and yellow are sublime and desperately powerful, like angry screaming over tears and through laughter or hatred. Maybe the words are about crying or laughing, but the expressions are altogether impenetrable and distant. The jokes told behind the teeth and through…

Alone

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I wake up in the back of my car, sleeping amongst the junk and a steel trolley I had used to help someone move house. I feel for the door handle to let some of the cold, grey morning air in. I gingerly step out onto the pavement and my leg gives way as a cocktail…

The Fat Geisha Sings The Ballad of the Bamboo Shoot

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Come gather round and listen to me You senior VPs from AIG As full of yourselves As you are of wealth So engorged are you with raging greed The warnings you neither see nor heed. Come gather round and listen to me Sing of the Minister of the Third Degree. …

...until love lasts.

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She didn't know why she thought the ring wouldn't fit her finger, but it slid on easily and effortlessly, coming to rest in the old familiar place it always had, the groove that had worn in her finger after seven years of wearing it. She hadn't worn it in a few months,…

Equality

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J., W., and W.’s girlfriend were exploring the nature and mores of homosexual conduct by discussing whether W. would be willing to suck J.’s cock.

Nothing Ever Stays Looking

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The same, some things you Can't explain, most trees Have felt it go bone dry at the roots before. I've learned to let love Go bye bye. You think they don't Want to answer your pathetic knocks, But they're…

When Will the Poetic Violence End?

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Some corners of the world seem to be consigned to an eternal hell of never-ending strife. The Middle East; Northern Ireland; the faculty lounge at Oxford University.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 44

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The butterscotch on that painting makes me want to lick the canvas.

Waiting, Waiting

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The fear you represent is a real drag. That's all there is to say. But like every other house on the block I have spiders in the basement who are waiting to be brought up into the golden light. These creatures only want to be good at being alive. Instead they are given…

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…

and I used to sing, too, after sex

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Females exuding from the genitals, giving life meaning, shape, cleanness of line, purity of spirit. They may form man as the honey moans out its salt song, solitary, its epic shout of joy, the sweet science of the human form. Then to give back in re

Dear Sir

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[Lights up on CLAUDE. He's holding a letter, standing.]CLAUDE: Dear sir, We regret to inform you That your (that place with cream walls and dog hair…

Typing Right On Fictionaut, Take 1

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We went driving on Sundays.

Down The River

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The river was frigid. Branches, empty cans, and used condoms float past me.I lost my jacket when I became snagged on a tree branch. My shoes are gone. My skin is blue-grey, as are my lips and fingernails. I've been face-down in this river for two…

Sailor & I

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We were born here. At the top of the stairs underneath a painting of basset hounds playing croquet. And a hallway closet filled with lost someones. And the police, three times a week, singing nursery rhymes while walking up to our door.

Elegy for the Sun

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When winter comes again…

Shirley Ave.

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What can I offer you, White Moon?This full night lays black before your stoic assent—and Ibreathe my final breath, frantic—for you. I wait, damned,a bestial lover in the broken dark of the variety market, whisperinga word of forgiveness to an empty window. I…

Stuffed Animals

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Mr. Skunk looked disdainfully at the window. “When the fuck do we get out of this place?” It was mostly rhetorical as the Skunks were all stuffed and inanimate.

our bodies were melting into each other

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I had a dream about you once. I don't know if I told you about it already or not. (If I did, I apologize.) I'm never quite sure who you're writing about in some of your stories (maybe a composite of everyone?) but I did hold you one more time. In my dream

Last Visit to Mauritius Island

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So I threw away all my stuff, because I was tired of it, and because I decided I wanted to revive the Oral Tradition. I figured if it was good enough for our ancestors, it couldn't be all that bad, not that I’m really into history or cultural stagnancy o

Behold the New Day That Allows the Rabbit Hole to Disappear

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For hours and hours she swirled, and swirled some more. She was trying to be there for everyone, yet no one realized how much pain they were causing her. Some of them had thrown invisible darts of anger all day, and she had endured each one, because she c

Check

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My toes curled together under the pathetic rag of a bedsheet, the frost creeping in through the two-inch deformity of the window on the left wall. I was tempted to sneak a glance at them to insure that they weren't black, but then decided that I'd…

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.4 - c.1

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Ciel’s eyes trembled at how this all could have happened. With tears falling down her cheeks, all senses of hope disappeared.

Selfgod

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Loving himself. Loved by no one. Loving no one.

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

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…

We Are In Our Thirties Now

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For years, Nina lived in an apartment with furniture that was silver or clear or metallic, she could see her reflection in every surface. She had an enormous television that took up one entire wall of the small living room. She and Anna and Desmond, Nina's downstairs …