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#53 Cut Up

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I loved her when she first came calling in the sodden dawn of spring. She was a strange and dangerous flower. Together we drank up all the money. The days staggered away like drunks lurching down a flophouse hall.

Tincture Shunt Lunch Box

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Most people don't understand what it's like being a pop idol. I am not most people. I am Tincture Shunt, and here I present you with my trajectory to stardom, in case you want to copy it for your own personal use. Unfortunately (for…

Warm Sand And Black Heaven

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He met her at midnight just off the plane and they sized each other with silent growing awareness that no matter what might transpire in distant tomorrows, each served here now as passports to magic and lands far away. On the…

Disappear Everywhere

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heroes and monsters

Tea Time

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But I sense a tremor in your soul as well, young friend, a yearning of some sorts.

Gilbert B Fumbleberry

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“You know, Miss Viv, I love looking at the sun when it’s almost gone. It kinda looks like an orange and apple squished together. Those are the colors. And the puffy clouds under it look like a bed. It’s going to sleep."

Literary Intercourse

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Meaning is harder to sell, unless it’s an analysis of why there is a Justin Bieber.”

Not Even

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That’s not just a trinket on her finger, that’s a rock, a fortress, a castle. No one can scale those walls except Joe Sixpack, slumped beside her at the airport. They’re not a match. I give it 5 years, max. Not even. Joe

Stealing From A Corpse

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He kept one scarf. It was the scarf that she would tie around his eyes to play with him, long, until he was in his teens. A silly game that made her happy and he squirmed with delight until he got too old. She did not want him to see her, only to know if

Mechanics

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Seems I was in the wrong place, wrong time.

The New Poetry

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The new poetry comes in shining metal boxes covered in glass so you can peer in.

A Writer Abroad

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Here’s an obvious fact: I live in Germany, but don’t speak much German. Okay, I speak very little German. Truth be told, hardly any.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 33

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This will take forever. I’ll never get to Antibes to meet Isabella, much less make it to Marseille to deliver the picture and then catch the overnight train to Paris. I may have to call Jean-Claude Lyon, the orchestra manager of the Monte Carlo orchestra,

Five Million Yen: Chapter 66

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Jack Krackenthorpe, Director-General of MI-5, sat alone drinking tea in Lee Ho Fook, a third-rate Chinese restaurant in Soho a mile from his Curzon Street office.

Not Death but Decrepitude

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A bedridden ward of the state,/ warehoused in a nursing home,/ unable to drive to the liquor store/ for whiskey and cigarettes,

Oed is Dead

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I COULD always sleep. Go "home" now and sleep. My body and my fetus—who complain of this torture—would appreciate sleep. I have something to do that is not sleep. I have something to do that is not sleep. I have to try to wake.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 23

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Detective-Sergeant Claude Mulvihill sat in his squad car, which was parked on 54th Street in front of Bright Star Recording Studios. He had just finished the second of two jelly donuts and was spiking his coffee with three packets of sugar.

Starlight Standup

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They wink at me as if to share/ a cosmic joke whose punch line’s still/ a couple dozen light years out

An Angel at Christmas

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Call it what you may but misfortune, bad luck, disaster, adversity and trials of different calibers can hit us at any time.We are human. We experience the ups and downs of life everyday. Out of a job, lack of money, health insurance and other luxuries that some people…

Fixing the RED Wagon

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I had put the child's wagon, which had been red once, back together again. “Honey”, I said, “I found out the garbagemen will pick up concrete this month.” So, I put…

Away From the River

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Tiny poem

Worst. Party. Ever.

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"The food tastes kind of...off."

Frank & Frank

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Ok, so I know this guy, he's a friend of mine. A good friend, even though I think he's left too big a tip on the bar more than once. His name is Frank.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 13

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-That’s more like it. He released Ben and holstered his gun under his leather jacket.

My Stigmata

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“Don’t you think you should tie a tourniquet or something?” she asked as I bled profusely from the points where Jesus was wounded during his crucifixion.

DENSITY

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There were more of us before, laying in a puddle cuddling on the floor with heads tucked into the crooks of arms where light scattered their crowns in the morning and no machine exists for me to use trying to find that morning again. Carl could go off the side of the…

Five Million Yen: Chapter 60

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Thérèse Defarge felt the first drop around ten.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 69

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The Gringovitch family was gathered in the lobby of the hotel. The boys sat on the floor using their packs as back supports. Francesca Gringovitch sat on a chair with the remaining luggage in front of her.

I Want to Leave You With My Passwords

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I mean let's be real.

Match Book Covers

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We all wish to partake in great events.