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As Zoë says, “You and your musician friends drink in industrial quantities.”
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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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Once upon a mind-flight
Leary with the tripping became weary
Of the psychedelic travel
Felt the universe unravel
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We woke up and we were whirlpools of spilt turquoise oil / with wings for flying
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The woman wrings her hands again and again, reaching up to place one under her chin, then to her cheek as though there is some pending trepidation no one else can see...
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And then I heard
“Yea, for I have seen the Father
The Son, and the Holy Toast”
Okay now, something up was weird
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Made sense then, should have written it down - But I fell back to sleep instead
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Number the herd. Number/
the baskets after harvest./
Note the reappearance of the moon/
after its short absence.
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I do that now. And I shiver. My mom's eyes don't seem to have any expression. They look lifeless. Her eyes look...
dead.
Stop it, Alison, I tell myself. You're being stupid.
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The carnival passed through this hotel one time only, its boarded guests pretending to ignore the smell of outdoor whore in their bedding.
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Traffic, no need to be in a hurry.
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“This isn’t fair!” I rail to my late wife. “It’s all right for you, why not me?” She never answers me directly. Not in whispers, or with knocks, or even dreams.
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His senses were heightened. The scratching on the table with his finger nails, intense nervousness, the noise magnified every second, the ball point pen was piercing into his sweaty palm.
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The will to make/
remains
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-Looks like you could use some light, Austerlitz, said one of the men in a heavy Russian accent, or perhaps you prefer the dark?
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When I mentioned my visit to the museum during an A.A. meeting, I wanted to know whether the framers of The Big Book had been aware of the Nazi hospital sterilization and “euthanasia” programs.
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The harsh lights of the 7th Ave. Local revealed dark circles that had remained hidden during Vivian’s performance.
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they could be barefoot bastard children
for somebody else to clothe
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Who better to know the wiles of the fox than the vixen herself?
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By the time the third car disappeared, Bud had noticed sudden lulls in the breeze, rain microbursts from otherwise blue skies, cold humid calms that trailed him around the junk.
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Soccer Tease
Nerdvana
Ballsa Wood
Pulp Friction
Spam Folder
Fetal Position
Wayne Newton’s Yacht
Late Bloomers
Sir Real Geese
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Drink tons of water they keep telling me...
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It was a beautiful spring day and Jeremy was bursting with joy at being alive.
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As being ebbs it deepens. The mind grows truant. We inhabit a permanent Saturday.
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What don't they all do for us?They absorb, eliminate negative feelings and make you smile. To just name a few ... They make you sane, how insane it may seem from a certain point of view.But let me tell you this: I'm 1300 kms away from my family. I don't care much about…
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the impression I had gotten of him was that he was fifty percent yuppie and fifty percent drug dealer from Marin.
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He will later claim he knows nothing of the girl’s disappearance and that I was the last one seen with her, which will unfortunately be true but not the real story…
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