1240 10 7
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1240 5 5
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Sundays I drive her to the cemetery to visit her husband of fifty years. I've had her for two, and when I tell her I love her as much as he did, she laughs. I have to hold her elbow and help her over the bumpy grass. Today it's raining and we brought just one umbrella, so…
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1240 3 1
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It was New Year's Day. My cousin and I were having coffee. It was about ten at night. We were outside the establishment. She said: "Sometimes I think you're not happy. I see it in you."
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1240 19 9
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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,
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1240 4 2
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Im in bed.
Bed.
I look at the word bed written on the screen.
Bed.
It looks like bad but not quite.
Bed-Bad.
Bad-Bed.
I have a bad bed. Lets say my bed is bad.
It is a bed to the extent that it is bad. It is not good, it is bad. It is a bad bed.
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1239 1 0
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HE DREAMED THAT NIGHT OF A SMALL BLACK CHILD LYING INJURED IN THE STREET, UNABLE TO CRY OUT
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1239 1 0
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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.
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1239 0 0
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Last week I heard that there is a new horror movie out about Abe Lincoln, with the plot of the film involving the tallest of presidents hunting down vampire bats with his axe while suspending habeas corpus, writing lame speeches about the freedom of man, restoring the…
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1239 2 1
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To assist you in recalling some of Episode One of - "A Poem by Jasmine Coriander-Semolina": My head lifted up slowly as I looked up through a gaussian blur of fragrant incense smoke and saw she was crying. She whispered that her daughter, Pastina, was last…
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1239 4 1
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This time is different. The dream doesn’t continue with endless walking.
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1239 6 3
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1239 6 5
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I texted a wickety-split, tax-declaring New York-based international escort, a moonlighting, all-pro Kit, whose day job on Wall Street yields no bonus.
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1239 6 6
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With the sudden thrust//
of April green, we can forget/
our drought continues.
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1239 7 1
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The new poetry
comes in shining
metal boxes
covered in glass
so you can peer in.
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1239 0 0
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Joan's biospy showed the cancer had come back. Instead of preparing herself for chemo, she booked us plane tickets to the Galapagos. “Death can wait another ten days,” she said.
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1239 2 1
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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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1239 4 3
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Daylight and cold sensed as an abstract, a number in my mind. Air thin, polluted, lacking oxygen. But the Recyclers are at it again.
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1239 0 0
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1239 5 5
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to continue to crumble its way through another grinding cycle of slowly walking to the edge of the universe ancient treelike beings, like gentle ghost buffalo, and our own thundering buildings by the hundreds of thousands, …
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1238 2 0
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He sat behind her in Honors English, each day studying everything about her.......
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1238 2 1
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Ben left the airport and headed toward downtown Nice, his stomach was in a knot.
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1238 3 2
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His thoughts drifted to when he was a kid, to the monthly trip to the barber.
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1238 3 2
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and then he began to sing, along with the ghostly villagers
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1238 2 1
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Breaking News: Noted local writer and very minor celebrity Paul Steven Stone joined a growing list of talentless wannabes to bare skin and a hint of nipple in a shameless attempt to draw attention to his current blog posting. When asked how far he would g
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1238 2 1
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I saw blood. The walls of the bar were completely covered in red shag carpeting. Had I been thrown back in time to the Seventies? It felt as if I had entered Hell itself. No, this was not Hell. This was the Aryan-Brotherhood's version of the movie Shaft. I…
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1238 0 0
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“This horrible street. I hate this neighborhood,” she cursed.
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1238 1 0
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1238 1 0
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There's one graveyard for the part-timers and another for the full-timers. Ours is a little nicer, but we're still all going to hell. Do you remember St. Petersburg? No, you're memory's not that good.
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1238 9 6
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The world can still be viewed as a honey drop of sparkling rain, but not all washed up tears can be revealed as such. The stories swirling inside are constantly shifting their own gears, searching for the lost highway, and sometimes…
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1238 4 1
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I have to look closely to be sure But they are there Bold stickers on three sides of the truck's cab Porcine cartoons Cutely admonishing No fat chicks! I am enraged Who does this guy think he is? This contractor's helper who makes …
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