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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…

CHINTZ PICKLE

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What if she doesn't take me seriously? My sweaty testimony wedged tight behind the tragic I used to think was honest? What if, right? What if . . . Isolation Real men feel that, right? They have …

Industrial Revelation

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I tell my students about a timewhen seniority was told by the number of fingers on a worker's hands No weekends or overtime, children — bare toes dangling — twelve hours on the line I look for…

Colours

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Not yet confident enough, for example, to feel free to interrupt, to suggest, to demur; not free of his desires his urgency (‘in the morning, fiddle diddle dee, when I rise’)

No Such Thing

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People could disappear in the Pine Barrens and never be seen again. Either by their own choice or when someone didn’t want the body found. John Dance knew that was just a part of life you had to accept and couldn’t change.

Motorized Elderly Armageddon

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Oldies are not goodies.

Between the Trees

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In his head the moment would have been different.

Shell

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a wingover a dark sealooking up from what you're doingwhat you're not doinglooking upseeing what I don't seeor the same thingalteredwhen I was eightI cut my foot on a sea shellblood is red sea waterput a shell to your earyou'll hear your own bloodhowling in the night…

The Man Behind the Curtain

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I find it more fun to be a pirate

Virginia Aste

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This is like getting a hand full of black slugs as a gift.

The Magic Dolls

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Trees gaining maturity that waited in the sun, in the bursting mornings and long afternoons, became restless now in new night textures. Sometimes the wind that came before the storm seemed to be intelligent, and follow some unseen but labyrinthine pathway. But now it…

After Appomattox

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The renegade states- Virginia, Georgia,/ Texas, and the rest- should have lost their names

When the Snow Geese Fly

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When the snow geese fly to the warming marshes,when the ice melts on the pond in the wood,when the sweet breath of fresh-mown haylofts over us and settles on the fields,I will remember you have been a blessing,a quiet steady forceWe will sit at the kitchen table and…

notes on flying

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Going to Atlanta 6AM Despite all the issues presented by Delta this morning (the rescheduling of my 7am flight at 1am to a flight at 10, giving me a two minute layover time in Detroit, and my eventual own rescheduling of my flight to 6am, and waiting…

In and Out

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Emma held her arm up to John’s eyes. He looked, nodded. “My burns are on the inside,” he told her. “I’ll never show you.”

Black Wheat, 6

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The soul was in the eyes but (it) isn't The animal is in the body and can't be hidden One senses the density of the blood there Occasionally the soul rises to the surface Occasionally the animal comes into the eyes They use people and throw them away

Change of Heart

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They pumped him full of electricity and waited.

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.

Goliath

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He glances at the other patrons of the café. He has the mix of middle management goliath and shy, fat kid at a school swimming pool. Neither fit comfortably but it's as bespoke as his suit, protective as fat. The arm rests on the table curling protectivel

Final Fantasy

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That’s where her reputation Wild Cat came from.

It's All in Your Head

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The terms of a broken heart, I guess I nevergot to read them. But they must besomething awful, something numbing, something no sane personwould ever agree to. You're already on the vergeof becoming nothing I can remember without a photograph beingshoved in my face. Like a…

Confidence

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one day the words will form an order, one day the words will make a rhyme, one day the words will make a meaning

She Looked In the Mirror And Saw Something Different

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Even raw as she looked coming out of the jail, the woman left echoes.

running, returning

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The broken car horn wailed for 40 days and 40 nights.

femme fatale

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her knife cleaves a single red hair

Afton Mountain

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fog settles over the mountain laying a ghostly blue shroud

My Great Sensitivity

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I'm mucked now for sure. No one's going to discover my difficult poems in a locked away desk drawer somewhere after the dying fact. I remember how it feels to be knocked out by someone standing next to me in a simple white dress. This…

Chimes of Coins or Branches

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It must be some sort of Freudian twist, but as her cold fingertips draw rings on my navel, I think of my mother. Here, her body watches my tongue, asking my lips to curl into the letters of her name. I can't get erect. I remember my mother's face—her eyes almost…

children

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Since I have never found any mention of children that you may have had in your writings, I've been a little reluctant to tell you this story. It may be a touchy subject for you...I don't know. It's a lot of conjecture on my part, but there's one indispu

War Bride

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Maria met her husband in World War Two. Maria is now eighty-two. She is from the country of Tuscany. She has lived in may countries. She was a war bride. She has a son. Maria's son is sixty-three. As a baby-boomer he won't retire until sixty-five Maria says.…