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Blame It on The Good Stuff

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That was nearly two years and a thousand smiles ago.

Punkin Head

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The old neighborhood, long paling in the shadow of greater Los Angeles, was reduced to two blocks in length and occupied only one side of Figueroa. It was the crumbling bastian of homes whose architecture remembered yet street-car bells clanging, watermelon farms and…

The Passing of a Hero

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"...and time came hurtling behind him, gripped his shoulder/ jumped clean over him like a buck goat/ the world aged but he did not/ he spent his afternoons in an old car with fake leather seats/ drank cold beer under the olive trees/ or lay in a hammock/

Vestiges

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Even the fruit from the nearby orchard (which I, in part, nourish) batters my stone to rot.

Deadheading

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The cicadas hissed and chirruped until the air was thick with a noise like mechanical bedsprings bouncing for the 4th of July.

Confronting the Alien

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I find Vermeer and Bach and feel/ for a moment a shower of my own world’s/ prismatics.

Follow My Lead

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I ran down the list of reasons she might be calling. She could be bankrupt, having a mid-life crisis, or maybe had a terminal illness. Either way I was clueless, as I had absolutely no emotional bond with the woman I came out of.

The Dead in Paris, Parts 5 and 6

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The virgins smirk / // We got medieval on their asses

A Scriptwriter's Story

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He paid the price for being a dick when he tried to write. The Muse did not care for violent behavior.

What Was It

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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…

a grey green enamel vase in the rain

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we hover black as carrion birds with a glut empty need seems to me she's fell as thee and knows exactly where we posture anxiously spitting falsehoods on cue twittering like snipes cause there's nothing left to do she might have spent her whole life just

Seriously?

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Did you really think you were going to cure cancer with that poem?

Father Dunne's School for Wayward Boys #10

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I'm standing on a toilet, trapped behind a stall. Watching Father U mop up the blood.

The way the sky was now

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I’d like to say we didn’t remember the Alamo, but one of ours had to piss. We ran into youknowwho and he was fighting Mexicans and it was so beautiful and there were fireworks, or else it was God’s wrath, or else it was the sky now.

Panic Pure

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He said, “It was only after I broke my neck and even like maybe a year later that I really started realizing that I had something to say.”

Hive mentality

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My anger over yesterday's argument with you slipped from memory when I felt the first of the two hundred bee stings, each tiny jab another burst of brilliant pain, and each little attack another reminder to watch where I'm walking.

Hippie Mix

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

Snowdrop White

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We light cigarettes, take turns putting them out on each other's arms, legs, anywhere hard without a mark. It's living, he says, it's better to know you're alive than feel nothing at all. My brother is two years older than you, I was thinking on Tuesday,…

shame

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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

The Giver and The Gone

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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…

Pessoa

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Pessoa, wake up, I need your help!I want to be the universe, I need to be the universe. And somehow be no-one at all. I want to expand and be everything and not be tragically held by One. But I need your help, old man, because my words are not enough to make me forget that…

Fibers(next:our world without ice caps/yipes!)

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The light they love to hate so much is always pulsating within each life; the unbelievable color sword of what happens next when any two people find each other in their hearts and all pretense is somehow gone, for at…

This Is How Far It Is

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

Art exploits

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Against// the mysteries and the dark/ it illuminates and shapes

War Stories

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I told about the time during the early part of WW II when I shook hands with a member of the Flying Tigers. He was home on leave, and he stopped by to see my dad, who had been his scout master.

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.

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

The New Main Stream

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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. …

Walking To Gibraltar, Chapter 12: In Which Frank Consults A Mirror

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"I need a male friend, and I think I've found one."

Five Million Yen: Chapter 71

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It was that awkward time when one didn’t know if the night’s lover wanted to see you again.