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Desert

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Tonight’s concert was called Desert.

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.”

Him

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He is poised erect before me. I take pleasure in soft skin that does not betray the strength of his cock, firm and yet vulnerable beneath my fingertips. With my hands, I coax him to his full length, girth. Tonight I ignore the heat of my Delta and bow my head in worship…

Heavy Weather

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The blue of the sky pierced her heart. She patted her lips with her tongue and turned to him. “We have to talk.”

Last Cricket

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The weather, mid-sixties now, will take its toll on this singular voice.

The Chair

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His thoughts drifted to when he was a kid, to the monthly trip to the barber.

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.

Bitter About Pay, Poet Laureate Strikes Catty Tone

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Duffy struck an adversarial tone from the outset, offering up a first poem about improper expenses submitted by members of Parliament that ruffled feathers across party lines.

Away From the River

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Tiny poem

Five Million Yen: Chapter 26

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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.

Working at a Truck Stop Outside Charlotte

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My name's Barbara and don't call me Barbie if you want to be my friend.

The Last Days of Summer

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Their laughter is of a tiny world that knows nothing of taxes or lost loves, or news reports of flag-draped coffins filled with limbs.

Puzzle Pieces

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temporary objects of desire

Things That Go Rrrrr, Crash, and Drip In The Night

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Last night, but not really night, I woke up to a huge clattering crash! I reached for my weapon (wouldn't you like to know) and jumped out of soft and cozy, holding myself in my best "I'm-not-afraid-of-you" stance.

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.

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 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.

This Bud’s For You

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I suspect I’ll make the right decision.

gravelortian part 25

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I come up and out of the hole onto a village street in the middle of a parade celebrating the arachnid god.

To the Folksinger Just Arrived

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Whisper salutations to your irises

Turning Heads

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Crows cawed, kvetched.

Disposable Pleasures

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when I take the time/now to remember/ you have become/a thousand page/memory book

Breaking And Entering

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Do you know what it is to crave something? Of course you do. But this was different. This was beyond craving.

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,…

#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.

The Duke of Travel

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...he had that same grin, better than a racy French picture.

The Prompter

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Here is a not remembering

Anselm Kiefer Painting, 1

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The damaged sky is not more black than your hair, Ashen tonight and floating over the land in blackened Smoke, where the furrows run with milk light Or snow, blue and white, and the world-ash floats. Your patient body sleeps and the white pain

How to Lose Control of Your Pencil

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Real hands

The Further Chronicles of Mars (tribute to Ray Bradbury)

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And in the dark caves a new secret, hidden from flyby probes and the imagination of men. In these new caves, names for the loved ones, Bradbury, Clarke, Rover