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Girl Running Up Cherry Street, Looking For the Past

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I know I was hungry, she says to herself, maybe. I was hungry for what you had to offer. Your fast car, your dad’s ski boat, your prettiness, your beautiful mouth, your eyes, and yes for the joy you could give me between the legs. B

In the Life

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You had autumn in your hair I liked the way you sat at a table And drank champagne My past years have carried me To sixteen countries Christ, we have so much to share Listen, I know how the other half lives And we can’t live like that an

Split Decisions

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Many colored eyes move slow between the mirror and my heart, begging questions. I offer no explanation. None suffice to breed either my content or theirs.

Ask the Language Monitor

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A woman I work with is always going on about her daughter is an expert water-skier and has a collection of antique thimbles and makes prize-winning congo bars.

Mounds of Flesh

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Rains came again and wore away at their flesh, revealing bone as white and sharp as sharks’ teeth.

The First Several Chapters of His Memoirs

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He went for long, quiet walks. These seemed to quell the seething rages swirling about him as he exhumed and reconstructed the truth of himself.

U-11 Soccer Girls Gone Wild

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Do you think your mom would come out and take off her shirt, the way Brandi Chastain did the last time the U.S. women won the World’s Cup?

Final Fantasy

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That’s where her reputation Wild Cat came from.

Best Laid Plans

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My obituary wasn't in the morning paper, so I headed to Target.

Renewal

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At first he thought it was a cat she was holding, swathed in a white, fleece blanket

Thirty Seconds

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That was all it took. Thirty seconds.Half of a minute.30: He was standing with me on the corner of the street, 29: waiting for the crosswalk to say it was okay for us to make our way to the other side. 28: The red "do not walk" signal changed to the white "join us over…

Chresmographion

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Meeting the past an inevitable outcome (this inside a future fortune cookie). Shame pierces her like a sudden migraine.

Please Do Not Blame Me

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I was disappointed with love, and like everyone else, stammered out of love into a place horrified with meaning.

Cold, Cold Night

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I thought I heard Follow your heart On the cold, cold Night of the soul I thought I heard Follow your heart, follow your heart On this coldest night Of the soul Leaves on fire, leaves on fire They told me look Into the flames To

The Call

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I strolled mindlessly along the concrete pavement, the cool breeze carrying the characteristic scent of the night. I stared at the path ahead, but not really looking. My legs continued their automated operations. I didn't know where I was going, but that was all right - I…

Beowulf in Hell (in Anglo-Saxon alliterative verse)

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They strung him up,…

gravelortian part 14

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He was an old cat

gravelortian part 18

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A poor boy scribbling

Spin

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...I made the mistake, thinking the point of a maze was to go in one side and out the other.

Stinking oil

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When were you flash frozen?

Waiting for Lunch

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The banality of his own state of boredom, a luxury to be satiated with violence, to hack with an axe the exposed neck of his friend.

Miranda

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...cinched the handcuffs.

Curiosity

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They call me Curiosity and I am curious. I am also a robot. Please. Don't judge me. Robots are not all stupidly obedient, bubble headed twits with whirring gears, lithium batteries, and nanocrystalline electrodes. I have a temperature. I have self-monitoring…

4 Poems in an Avante-Garde Classical Style

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For Derek, Remembering Odd Jaunts in Overtoun I here remembered how we smoked and swam Under the cadenced pleasure of our under-days, Congealing cross-thoughts under oaken breeze, And watched the Turnered ocean of that swarm Last…

Chu Berry, Tenor Wrapped in Swaddling

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They heard Chu’s voice, he was lying ten feet away, his skull opened up. “Find my change,” was all he was saying. “I left my change around, look for it."

How We Open Doors

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-- as if I had / only rung the rusted bell --

Bougainvilla Drive

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blue plexiglass skateboard is holding the light of a turmeric sun. jacob turns it this way and that and lets it sit on its side atop parking curbs. denim legs canvas feet. looking down sign ridden streets and squinting. sometimes sun showers leak out. cotton…

Between the Trees

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In his head the moment would have been different.

s'mores

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hot, full focused, hypnotic

Aromatherapy

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Marie Poupon-Kennedy wasn’t strangled by one set of hands; there were thirty sets around that long, pale neck.