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The toilet paper had been the least of the issue. It was just something else for her to yell about. See, what she was really upset about was the bank account. The bank account had been his, then theirs, and now it was his again.
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I saw magic for the first time when I was eight, on the day Jeremy Chendo showed me that paper cranes can fly.
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Watching the surroundings, the school proceeded on with no threat in sight. The Circle of Four entered inside Azure’s classroom where she sat next to a window.
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He was a Decembrist but he was not / one of the hanged
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Monkey Business
Low Ceiling
Wagging Tongues
Guest Sweet
Murphy’s Law
Kinda Hot
Stopit!
Freedom Ring
Lumpy Oatmeal
Better Not
Butter Up
Grumpy Umpire
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Your father's remembrance and memorial would be inappropriate for me to attend. never mind the truth the searing…
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The Phoenix Asks the Turtle-Dove if He Can Get a Drop of Water: After Shakespeare — In the style of Ted Hughes Let the bugling bird come up that burst a big loud lay, On the solitary tree of old Arabia (sound its thunder!):…
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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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Getting up and reading his poem
The stuffy poet sitting back down
On the leather couch, which creaks under his weight
After adjusting his narrow tie from the 1980’s
The stuffy poet clearing his throat, twice,
During an enemy’s reading
The s
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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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[VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.]
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This was not a good sign, comforting gestures from strangers were bad omens.
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Love comes and goes as it pleases. Plant lives matter you know. Isn't it so obvious? I'm sure you've noticed or felt like you've been here before. Maybe forever. Just ask any hand-held camera or open book. Well. How many times can we…
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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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Now, as we sat on lawn chairs /
on the balcony to watch the meteor shower
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I know what to expect because this has happened before. The darkness, the stench of an unlit match, The leathery sound of old wings flapping and finally that voice made up of feces and dust, ancient and terrible suggesting depravity and painful deaths t
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“Eat up, little brother” Jack called out from his end of the table. “The food will make your blood dance. It will be eager to mix with Helen’s.”
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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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They were afraid that the spiders would crawl up their slim, u-shaped gaps and get inside them. He wasn’t sure how it would happen to her, just that it was possible
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the silence of the hardwood floors
blisters into fragments
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The manic,/
looking on, finds and polishes//
the sharp green shard and bottle cap
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god's seed is asleep in the carseat
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Mary had no shoes. She told me they were stolen by someone at the shelter and I believed her because she stood there outside the Arlington T stop in a pair of tube socks. She told me she wasn't asking for money. She told me the shelter was serving seafood today so her…
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I kept my seat. Passengers packed in the aisle weren't moving and until they were, neither was I.
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Performed October 21-22, Gallery 263, Cambridge, Mass. Kathy-Ann Hart, the Hostess; Ryan Wenke, Ubu; Tyler Catanella, Alfred Jarry; the author--technician.
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This is the place you need a third hand
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One night, I wake and Daddy’s in the bathroom with a hanger in his mouth.
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Lost in the booth of Mr Punch's dreams,Jack Ketch flinches at the imagesflickering across torn curtains.The chirpy projectionistsits in his nest,flinging pictures:A snake, rising from a discarded pair of clown's trousers.A monkey, balancing on a watermelon.A burning sofa.A…
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But the things I do know are the ways we've changed since we'd fallen into each other.
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