1272 2 1
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Tucker walked the long and lonely stretch of highway in front of him. The loneliness didn't matter; he had his own way of handling that feeling. The walking, however, was wearing away at his mind. How…
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1272 9 5
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The pen point sits motionless on the paper...
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Once I get through this I'm going to start: daily yoga stretches; walking the dog all the way to the waterfall every morning; tossing out, unread, Saturday's ads so I don't think about going into Walmart to buy Stack-A-Shelves (assembly required). Hey, even…
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1272 10 8
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The boss has a serious problem--he's too nice for his own good.
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1272 9 7
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the pressure from my lungs threatened to burst my eardrums.
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1272 0 0
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When the lore of the land could no longer hold the minds of men, they turned their eyes to places where they expected to find no other gaze.
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1272 0 0
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Sunday Night She wasn't hungry, hadn't eaten for days, wouldn't even touch the food I took time off my fuckin' schedule to bring her myself. I walked through puddles of dirt and dog shit, I did. By the time she opened the door after four knocks, I was drenched,…
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1271 0 0
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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.
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His thoughts drifted to when he was a kid, to the monthly trip to the barber.
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my soul is black and it's deep like heartbreak and heavy as stone and as thick as ink and it is pressing on top of me like last nights one night stand like dead weight so that I can't lift my arms or spread my legs it feels like I am walking through mud but it's…
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1271 5 2
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Fingers scrabble idly at pocket seams, forage between teeth, grasp for tepid cups, patter a drumbeat on knees.
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1271 0 0
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How do you do my name is Luigi and I am the Duke of Abruzzi. I love bubbles, strawberries, and sheets drying in the wind and sunlight. Hobbies include bank robbery, kidnapping, and extortion. As you can see, the streets…
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1271 5 5
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The television was playing reruns of Mr. Ed, but it was hard to hear because of the flock of birds in the palm tree. I’d sometimes imagined the birds coming through the window, a swarming of pink cotton mouths, mawing everything in sight.
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1271 4 1
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This time is different. The dream doesn’t continue with endless walking.
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And her life runs like clockwork. And the kids wouldn’t get to school without her, and the paychecks wouldn’t arrive and the taxes wouldn’t get paid. And she listens to religion and country and God telling her how to run her life, what to do and when. B
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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.
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He can’t enlarge the rock—/
can only find its safest distance
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I bow my head
and shed the antlers
of past lives
I no longer butt heads
with the universe
but I miss my curse
and can’t do worse
I throw myself in reverse
and rehearse the early scenes
of science and my
full meat diet
that sent
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1271 6 1
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The bison know a lot about Longfellow
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The game is set, thirty pound gobbler at the center; brined, browned, and buttered to perfection.
The players take their places around the table: Reagan’s_Disciple and BraBurner38 sit at the head seats, eyeballing each other over a fizzing bottle of dom
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There are two, though, that stayed for more than just a little while: Marvin and Oscar. Marvin was married and that's all I have to say about that. Oscar wasn't and it seemed as though he wasn't planning on getting married either. What a petty man he was.
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1270 0 0
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TromboneA trombone blusters his waythrough the bright restaurant,demanding to see the chef.He's furious;the prawns have given himsplitnotes.ViolinsFour violins wait for a bus in the rain.The pervading atmosphere of melancholymakes their plaintive scrapings redundant.AxeThe…
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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.
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In the neon light and barroom shadows,
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We call it the alley of the shadows, the low sunless concavity of earth between the stalks, the acrid scent of the ripened arrow-points.
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the gambling priest stands in the morning fog/red moon hangs in the sky/the army of seven houses marches over the hill
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This world is always at least as strange as it seems, but usually far more strange, so many non-repeatable phenomena . . . .
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You don’t want to tango with me, she said.
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I remembered because the man took us to see the horses. I didn't see something that set off a series of memories. I only saw the stables and the moon sitting pensively below the firmament. I looked at these and there was spaciousness between the moon and the stables and…
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