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I Thought

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I thought we ended things a long time ago

The Process of Understanding (Strawberry Bees)

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Are all my words lonely, or nearly departed; decapitated; Visible only from the ankles down, nonchalant? I Get bored. All my words are not paying Strict attention to the television. I get dysfunctional. My words, coincidental though they…

and I am not with you, anymore

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Dancing at the pavilion leads to sex. A nectar builds up around the heart (damp curl of hair at the neck.) The heart does not know what it cannot have. It is dumb and does not know. But I, for one, hope that it never learns and becomes numb. There i

Afton Mountain

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fog settles over the mountain laying a ghostly blue shroud

A Haiku In Spirit But Not In Form On the Fine Art of Sumo

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Two titans move opposite one another

This Bud’s For You

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I suspect I’ll make the right decision.

Wolf - Variation 5

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his eyes see blood as circumstance.

Edward Ogle the Second

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doomsday kittens

He's All Man--And He's All Mine

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My man’s got a habit that’s kinda strange. I’ve got a feeling he’s never gonna change. Whenever I take a trip, when I git back, my underwear’s ripped.

Broadloom

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I have constructed this emotion with tinfoil and stilts. I wear the mask of a typewriter. I have roots in Minnesota. I have a glass hat and a junkyard monstrosity pregnant with parables.

After Appomattox

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

Of the FTC and the Human Condition

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Humanity comes without a choice

Five Million Yen: Chapter 38

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Inspector Paumé hung up the telephone. He looked at Dan Arris, who was staring out the window, shook his head and walked into the bathroom one more time to gaze upon the naked dead body of Claudia Monschaud.

Who Was This Guy

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Luke and Diane sat at a round white table looking around the room. There were clusters of people forming an archipelago of cordial exchange and small talk. All but a few were strangers, friends and family of his sister-in-law Mary, now a widow, though the word sounded…

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.

Dissecting

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skin is soft and too easily sliced away

A Good Provider

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She looked over from the passenger seat at her husband and smiled. It had been twenty years. She hadn't expected him to remember. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, placed her hand on his thigh.“We'll be home soon enough,” he said. He was not…

Rock the Rhombi

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This is the place you need a third hand

It is I, Hamlet, King of the Crabs

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Ronnie comes home carrying two sacks of groceries, one including a four-pack of Virgil's root beer. This is heavy stuff. It amazes me she is able to carry these items up our steep hill, nearly a mile in distance. I watch the news on our French cable station while she…

Female Scent-Marking in the Suburbs

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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.

jewels

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it is said to make your manliness last forever

Untitled

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the colors of the night

Shade to Shade

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Cathy told the boy to sit in the seat behind her, and gave him her scarf for his face. He nodded and plucked the scarf gingerly from her hands, suspending it between the clean thumb and ring finger on his left hand.

Florida Dreams of Peru

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Kiln dried mummies, landscape of once were alpacas. / Now all the wool is farmed in Alva

Upon a Time

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then all crawl out from the wreckage to begin a dance lasts all night so by morning we'll be tired surprised we're still upright

If the Shoe Fits

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I didn’t say to eat your keys and parrots. It was peas and carrots. Idiot!

The Angel with The Broken Wing

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"She was like a perimeter guard for an advanced race of beings who looked human but were somehow para-human entities focused only temporarily within this dimension."

Self Portrait Without Colors

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I am the ritual/ banalities of days numbered,/ numberless, and numb.

The Immunodeficiency Of Our Collective Hearts

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a set of 4 poems

AFTER

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Two lovers — their genders / faces / social identities / etc. up to the viewer’s imagination (though I caution you, dear reader, not to imagine yourself in this role due to the psychic intensity of the following passages) — writhe against each other