1283 13 7
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I find Vermeer and Bach and feel/
for a moment a shower of my own world’s/
prismatics.
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1283 0 1
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Ben gagged after shot-gunning the scotch. He hiccupped and it came back up through his nose. He grabbed a napkin and caught most of a shot and a half of Whyte & MacKay as it poured out his nose.
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1283 1 2
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Every soul has a shadow.Last night, I saw mine. I saw greed,with his sticky, gnarled fingers,seizing the tablecloth of a grand feast,indifferent(or conveniently oblivious)to his starving loved ones. I saw ingratitude,with her proud, scornful …
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1283 0 0
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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.
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1283 1 1
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There is an air of sulfur about you. I cannot tell if / it emanantes from you, or it is the stink of your clothes / from having been in hell for so long.
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1283 5 2
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How strangely perfect it is To see this man memorializedAn author, so I'll always cheerThough I haven't yet read his worksA secret perhaps best keptThe shame of an English major, the shame of a friendHow strangely perfect it is To read even the names paying…
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1283 0 0
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Loving himself. Loved by no one. Loving no one.
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1283 0 0
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As Mrs. Saito put on the helmet, the copter got off the ground. She focused her Mana and placed her hand on the window, bracing for the birds arrival.
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1283 10 3
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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.
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1283 6 4
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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
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1282 4 3
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Even the fruit from the nearby orchard (which I, in part, nourish) batters my stone to rot.
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1282 1 1
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Opportunity, says Webster, is a, "favorable juncture of circumstances." In my Oxford book of quotations, there are seven famous lines about opportunity. Seven – that’s it! There are twenty-seven regarding failure. Seems it's been easier for the great
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1282 2 1
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“Lassie was a hack,” Jim the Wonder Dog says as he looks out over fields of soybeans. “She couldn’t act her way out of a 25 pound bag of Purina Dog Chow."
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1282 2 0
|
How many years has he dreamed he would be home again?
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1282 5 5
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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…
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1282 2 2
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Pictures of war correspondents from The Tribune, and colonial photographs in a fruit crate
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1282 3 2
|
It was May of my senior year in college. Everybody was coasting, knowing what they were going to be doing the next year, or that they’d be doing nothing. Except for one guy, Tom.
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1281 0 0
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An hour later, we're no closer to the tunnel. In our rental car, we're just two in a school of a thousand fish skimming the edge of the island. Go with the flow, we keep saying to each other. We're just going with the flow. …
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1281 1 1
|
I am tripping on poetry.
Purple ink drips from my eyes like ergot of rye.
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1281 1 0
|
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. …
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1281 1 0
|
A deserted breeze hangs and waits
and talks with staggered shapes in the sky
like a melancholic child,
held behind
and forced to face the wall
as better taught and better-tempered children
dig for ancient ruins
just ou
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1281 4 4
|
They were once a crown,of some living stag -- not quite old,not quite young: now bone. Something at the cusp of its age. Here they stand, given by a loved friendon a place in my home; smelling, whenI get very close, of time. They are shaped like small…
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1281 6 5
|
we were all meant to do with our love? What I can think of is to ask the question again. I suppose there are others more willing to supply you with a proper answer, but none seem real to me. These words are only stones,meant to skip across the…
|
1280 5 3
|
And there on the street
Were a bunch of frantic pigeons
Picking over some discarded
Chicken bones
I mean they were really
Going to town on them
You know, frantic
Like there was no tomorrow
And then I saw it
A real sign of progress
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1280 3 1
|
the Tate Modern is like a dungeon!
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1280 1 0
|
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…
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1280 2 1
|
It was that awkward time when one didn’t know if the night’s lover wanted to see you again.
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1280 3 0
|
I might have avoided all of this trouble if. . .
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1280 0 0
|
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…
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1280 5 5
|
The virgins smirk / //
We got medieval on their asses
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