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Briefly, on Dive Bars

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Every dive bar has a Max. Max is an elderly man. He wears a dented ball cap. He sits at the end of the bar, right along where it curves and then slams into the wall. You may find it cliché, but when Max enters the room, the patrons actually announce, “

The Undertakers of the Dead by Unseen Hands(Young Poet at the Bus Stop with Some new Vinyl in his Hand)

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"The truth isn't always beauty, but the hunger for it is.'--Nadine Gordimer Other things do matter just as much of course. Of course they do. Hey I'm still kind of alive inside this poem here. At least I'd like to think so, so yes another…

Role

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The pieces of bread dipped us humans in cheese, the cheese made by cows from our milk.

Coat and Shoes

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Walking in to work from an unfamiliar direction, I saw her, on a street I had never been down before. I was coming from his place, for the first time, after the first time. The first time, but not the first date. That's not me. I'm not one to... not one who... He worked…

Dream of Burying My Grandmother Who Has No Grave

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We buried her upright, in the stance of warriors.

The Adventures of Tequila Kitty: Chapter One - by Christopher Chik

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That’s how I’d met him really: drinking games. We’d both been at the local watering hole, challenging the other patrons to drunken games of chance and making a clean sweep of it. A few guys figured themselves for alpha dogs had Teqs cornered after he’d ta

Hobo Junction

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“How much is stuff worth? Stuff man! Bling! Cargo! STUFF! What's it worth to you? It ain't worth a shit, man! Clean clothes! Comfortable shoes! A ride! Those things are important! But they’re only stuff.

The 49 Days

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Where was she exactly? There is, of course, no answer to this question. But that didn't stop me from asking it. Constantly. Obsessively.

War Nurses and Lost Fathers - For Memorial Day

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I have been mother to a hundred soldiers, holding their hands barely knowing their names

Things I Should Have Done - #2

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I do not trust Shay anymore.

Y.

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We are the generation who tattoo our stories on our bodies, who pierce what appears impenetrable; we fly our scars like pennants.

My Voyeur Life

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It's the way an earnest five-year-old boy pronounces every single letter as he whispers. Something about octopuses, something else about peas.

Bread

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Zach lifts his glass. “Look at us! We eat like kings. Kings!”

Four Thousand Dollars from Baghdad

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“This is the most dangerous road in the world and you want to drive down it. You crazy,” he said.

Halloween

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"For God's sake," my mother said. "There could be anthrax in the candy." My mother worried about me going out on Halloween.

2010; What I Wanted

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You can't always get what you want, and fortunately, that's sometimes a good thing.

5” X 6” In A Sturdy Frame

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The first morning we met—I remember the rain, soft the way I like it—was a series she later attributed as a fourteen-frame sunrise.

Slices of Matisse

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still the water's insurrection continues, transforming the room into a silent crucible whose pure liquid melts our voices and surges above our heads.

This place exists outside of time

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I'm Icarus in Brueghel's painting. My wings as it turned out were made of wax. Mothers, tell your daughters this truth. You cannot fly so close to the sun.

The Penguin Flight

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Even though I made the phone call, it was really Steven who put me on that plane. I wanted to fly out at dawn. "Let's wait till after breakfast," he said. "Change to a later flight." By that time everything was sold out except a few seats on Doomed Flight…

Magritte

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Arriving at the pier I see a sailboat in dead wind. "That is pathos," Magritte says, pointing to a barnacle.

Greyhound

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I stare, out a dirty window, / into the sanitary blackness.

The Toy Store

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Figures are a strip tease.

Z Machine

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I'm afraid to find out what my spirit animal is

It Stops

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We made our escape on grimy streets under skies filled with crows, flapping like litter in the wind.

Requirement

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She sits at home, on the floor of the kitchen, bathing her stuffed animals in molasses to match the ones on the news.

Lying to the Boss

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I was having festive sex flashbacks and wasn't thinking sharply.

Voltaire Drinks Thirty Cups of Coffee

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Voltaire drinks his coffee standing up in front of the microwave and he likes to hold one hand on his chest where his heart is while he drinks. He likes to feel his heartbeat quicken and then he imagines that he is a machine or something mechanical.

Reflections on Chrome

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Diedre and Pearl look on from their perch at a nearby table as Eleanor dribbles water from a plastic measuring cup into the bowl of crushed chalk and, using a clean fork, mashes it into a thick paste. A few more dribbles bring it to the correct consis

Captions

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This is my house. You park in the back. * This is a picture of flowers and hands.