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colors dancing on metric vectors
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Last night I met a man from the same littleshithole townthat you are fromand I kissed him in the mouth to find out if he tasted like coallike you do.While he slept, I tried to pinpoint on a map I drew on his back exactly how far apart you might have been:how many years…
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—A little blood puts some life into the work, said the old artisan smiling.
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In one section of the map C climbs a staircase.
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Keep it quick (and they usually did) and it was simple.
Quick as the walk between their houses, from number 27 to number 33 (odd numbers only), and simple as the alibi.
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He also looked at the tv with a detachment he sensed was dangerous and the sensation scared him so he ran into the kitchen and felt ashamed alone in the hot room and trembled.
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It dawned on herthat her imagination hadswollen beyond belief
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The creatures were thief-walking...
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i found her world cluttered and noisy, a place where logic frowns
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She lived a good life she told herself. She lived a good life because she demanded little- little materialistic comforts that is- at least this is what she thought- and what she demanded anyway was simple, aesthetic; sophisticated and perhaps even neat. Yes she was a neat…
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Sonia banks on hidden things in the minds of other people, whereas I bank on what I know.
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You already had me in all your other paintings. You already had me in every possible position. Underwater, in a car seat, on your back lawn at night with lightning coming from the west, bending over to sniff a rose, with my panties down around my knees.
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. . . he's of mixed race. Along with European blood, he's got Mexican Indian and African blood. Here's the irony. He don't look nothing like a white European man but he thinks like one.
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"Too many people were presenting themselves in a false light on lunch dates,” she says. “The power ties on the men, the come-you-know-what-me pumps on the women–that’s not what married life is about.”
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The old-timers at the Working Man’s Club wear a sheen of indifference every Wednesday night. Beneath the wafting, cresting mountains of burning cigarettes smoke, the train-track rattle of dominoes chipping at the dark wood tables in the corner, the consta
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"My ex Maxine claimed red wine was the healthy alcohol choice. When we were married and I still had money she drank the expensive stuff, as if drinking Chateau Montrose 2005 instead of two buck chuck made her any less of a wino. She would have been better
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We watched through the plate glass window, like kids watching a mother guppy eat her young. A woman approached the sweaters but stopped suddently, as if she sensed the dark force Darth Vader projects in Star Wars movies.
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That’s not just a
trinket on her finger,
that’s a rock, a fortress,
a castle. No one
can scale those walls
except Joe Sixpack,
slumped beside her
at the airport.
They’re not a match.
I give it
5 years, max.
Not even.
Joe
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It is our gift-- the knowing/
without knowing--/
that allows us transport,
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To still make Emily smile. Even Today. On the street where Paper lives and works I'm Making this small effort out Of a few stray letters and An attitude like a chip On the kicked about shoulder. I don't Know, I think she deserves it. …
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Swords of Romeby Christopher Lee BucknerHello readers,The following is chapter Two of my Roman epic, Swords of Rome. The book is available to buy on Amazon: A special limited time offer of $0.99 for Kindle readers, and $14.99 for…
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Here is a not remembering
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What was heinous about it was how easy I assumed it would be. That was truly heinous, and it was a mistake in the end to think of it that way. But I’ve learned from what’s heinous. I’ve bought a plastic cylinder filled with nylon zip ties. They’re great f
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In dreams begin responsibilities--Yeats I'm writing this story to tell you about a mistake, despite the fact that you might find it boring or might consider my writing style onerous or overeager. I begin with…
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After her grief had subsided, the wife felt immediate relief. / Suddenly she was free to abandon or pursue loneliness
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My toes curled together under the pathetic rag of a bedsheet, the frost creeping in through the two-inch deformity of the window on the left wall. I was tempted to sneak a glance at them to insure that they weren't black, but then decided that I'd…
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Lucien ran through a burning vortex in desperation ignoring the cries of his friend. It was a flux of Satanic majesty. The floodlight of the fire was incredibly grim, but it did not hurt his eyes. Have you ever seen painted glass windows in a cathedral built by the…
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—Francesco, I wish you would give up smoking, said Michiko.
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The boys were his biggest nuisance. The unwashed guttersnipes poured into the park early, all shoeless and half shirtless. He only imagined how thick the fleas must be in their thick tangle of hair, of which only two didn’t have covered with a cap with an
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