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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

The Thing on Marlow Street

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After all, if she could get through World War II with no more than a couple of letters and numbers on her arm, she could, sure as hell, get through this.

This Bud’s For You

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I suspect I’ll make the right decision.

Match Book Covers

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We all wish to partake in great events.

SHOPPERS MAKE ME NAUSEOUS

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A meaningful conversation Subdued the huge Toys “R” Us question mark Standing sun-bleached and sprinkler-dirtied In our flowerbed On the patio Explode your fanny pack, A clinking most dangerous The Mysterious: Its …

Drunk and Driving the Family Home

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I felt like-

Preacher Alphonse Jicklo

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Samson was also somewhat in hopes that his son Jason would become engaged in this minor capitalist enterprise and 'turned around' in his life.

The Walk of Shame

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There it was One abandoned high heel shoe on the sidewalk Could have been Some kind of robbery Though Maybe it was just The beginning of the Walk of shame

last attempt at innocence

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When we were leaving to go to the ice rink, Lynda surprised all of us by saying she wanted to come along. She slid all the way over in the front seat to be next to me, while one of my buddies, Miller, who had his eye on her himself, slid into the passen

War Story: Veteran of a foreign war

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"Did you see any action?" I ask, hoping for a story. He points to a scar ripping through the chevron on his left arm but says nothing.

The Duke of Travel

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

Abby

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The music is too loud in here and it's hurting my ears. I know some of the words to the songs because my older sister listens to the same stuff when she's in her bedroom and is playing her iPod and my dad yells at her to turn that crap down. I like my dad. He calls me…

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

The Prodigal Son

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A minute later, a shadow appeared across the left-hand page of the book.

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

My Resolutions for 2015

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The only resolution I ever kept was when I said I wasn't going to create any more resolutions, and now I'm going to break that one.

Departures

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Fingers scrabble idly at pocket seams, forage between teeth, grasp for tepid cups, patter a drumbeat on knees.

It Began With The Waffles

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It began with the waffles, well first there were the potholders, but really the problem was the waffles. I don't even think she knew she was making waffles; much less that she had lost her potholders in the trash can the day before. But nonetheless the real issue here was…

A Rare Meteor Shower

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Now, as we sat on lawn chairs / on the balcony to watch the meteor shower

For One Group of Boys, Donated Cars Mean a Way Out

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The glamour of living in the Rebuilt Engine Capital of the World is meaningless to the young boys who roam its crowded streets after school, desperately looking for something to take their minds off their homework.

High Fives

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They pull up to the curbside and he jumps out to shake the hands in that familiar men’s grasp/shake they do when saluting each other. If that isn’t his daughter it should be, the one sitting in his car, with her door wide open.

Epic struggle between right and wrong...

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The day was yesterday, November 11, 2010. I was home from work, and I pulled my car into the driveway. I stopped short of the garage to get out of the car and get the daily mail. Bills and unwanted coupons for places I didn't go and for items I don't…

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…

Saved (Seven-Fingered Jesus)

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Believe me, I would run if I could, but there seems to be a low haze of molasses clinging to my ankles.

Bird Words

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a thinking man's bird high above coated with scent of life

Shuffle

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Something is clearly wrong with them and we're supposed to socialize them.

Elevator Music

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Of course, no one can control what goes on in an elevator.

eve

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she lays there wrapped in his baseball sheets

Rabbit Trail

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Sorrow fences with fear and questions

Something Wrong

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Her questions apparently had their desired effect.