1253 1 0
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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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The harsh lights of the 7th Ave. Local revealed dark circles that had remained hidden during Vivian’s performance.
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But if He makes you happy, stands/
as bulwark against the vast, indifferent/
and deadly universe, then cling to Him
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Unless we see it, probe it,
Name it, star by star, and feel
This awful, tenuous gratitude.
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Marie Poupon-Kennedy wasn’t strangled by one set of hands; there were thirty sets around that long, pale neck.
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The intergenerational composition of many vacation rentals can lead to strife, as jokes that win laughs among the elderly fall flat on teen ears, and the satirical humor of adolescents is perceived by senior citizens as “flip”.
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I change things without notice for himto make sure he's ready for the corporate world. It's no longer our goal to watch cartoonswe must now focus on breakfastthenaction figures. "But Daddy," he says. "I likecartoons." "I know it hurts," I say."But…
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1252 2 0
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Time is a form of sandwich. Each component of the sandwich is nestled between night and day, which enclose it like slices of bread. There are minutes, hours, and seconds. Seconds are tiny, like sesame seeds. Minutes are a little larger. Think of them as p
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1252 1 0
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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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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.
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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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1252 0 0
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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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1252 2 0
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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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Made sense then, should have written it down - But I fell back to sleep instead
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No One The city he abandoned lies below him. It's been years, so many tears. He admires the remains of the White City, The Shed, rooted ahead. He jaunts through Roosevelt Train station, hassled by the acrid stench pollinating the area. I…
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The ride home after Basketball and a little beer; That's when the best poems happen. Poems pin-prick sharp Puncturing through dulled Senses while streetlamps pass Overhead. They find their way inside you But they don't stick. Poems left back somewhere On the…
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The urban-abused Chevy looked older than its seven years.
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1251 1 1
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You fall with your eyes closed because otherwise you wouldn't dare.
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1251 3 1
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What do you do
when a Shirelle asks you
if you’re in the mood to dance?
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She’s not settling. She can learn to like this.
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I could have a minor stroke.
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I am from slow diagnoses, impatience and parents skeptical of New York City doctors. I am from tall buildings, yogurt shakes, and envy for my brother's asthma machine. I am from here, stay away from there, don't get too close, be careful at the edge, the…
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1251 3 1
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I hope my blonde down still beats in your heart, and the black crescent curved under, you will remember, and I would move toward your window where my own heart lay in a dish, with the thick valley lifting.
Remember, I crossed and uncrossed my legs f
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1251 0 0
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As Zoë says, “You and your musician friends drink in industrial quantities.”
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The boy wasn’t raised this way.
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The way I figure it, mom wasn't worth a shit. I'd cry when she hit me but she'd just keep pounding. When I was seven, she burned a hole in my back. It happened one day at the fair. We were walking around. She didn't have any money so all we could do was walk. I had…
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1251 0 0
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I wrinkled my face up
in the glare and warmth of the sun.
I baked easy in the hovering heat
and my spot-speckled skin ate
up the rays and swallowed deeply.
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Who better to know the wiles of the fox than the vixen herself?
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“You're right by the mall, the cultural district, and just a few minutes from downtown,” the realtor smiled. “And it's on a bus line?” the wife asked. “Yes it…
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