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Self-Portrait with Pipe and Bandaged Ear

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His ear is swathed by a large white bandage that runs down under the chin. Dressed in a heavy dark green coat, buttoned at the neck. Streaks of orange relieve the darkness of the green. Purple and black cap on his head. Calmly smoking a pipe.

Aftermath

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You better read the papers If you don’t understand Cause as of last night I’m a one-man band You’d better walk through water With your boots on fire Cause Baby I don’t think I can take this any higher You’d better find out what I dr

The Better I Knew Her, the Less I Liked Her

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As I looked in her eyes She told me— she liked to pull wings off flies.

A Vignette on Fathers

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On 3rd when you looked at your 389th happy New Year greeting, you autotyped “same to you”. No one on whatsapp knew. At week 17 of IVF therapy when you and your new bride could do no more; doctor Mehdi said neither could he. At 5 minutes left, you mi

Regrets du Noir

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You want to be Teilhard de Chardin? You’re getting started way too late. There’s a better chance you’ll be tomorrow’s Peking Man if I bury you in the cellar.

stop bullying racists

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Everyone wants to feel like the world has lined up against them and any achievement they have been able to attain was done despite the best efforts of everyone who isn't them. That's a given. But there is one group of people who seem to have a point.

extinguished

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The silence grew louder as it grew longer.

Mother

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He stood in the doorway of his mother's house. The doorway that separated the living room from the kitchen. Out of habit, he picked at the wallpaper. He had done this for years as a kid. Anytime a corner pulled up, he started tugging. Just a…

Buddies to the End

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“Tell me how sad they are.”

A Night of Furversion

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Another subject of interest is "furverts"--"individuals who engage in sexual activity while dressed in animal costumes."

Santa's Little Helper : A Memory

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“Well, Danny, what do you want for Christmas?”

The Blood and the Bulb

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I had laid my hand down hard upon a long forgotten shard of an old coke bottle. The cut is deep.

The Body

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Well, it looks like I’ll be having a stem-cell transplant after all...

The Ones Who Are Left Behind

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The women, I think, Handle it better than The men. The men just stare Straight ahead Vacantly Hollow-eyed Lonely. The women more Fulfilled by their lives, Having always Expressed their love. The men, Not so much. And find

At the Christmas Carol Bar

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I’ll take my Christmas carols neat-

Craigslist 2014

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Craigslist 2014?

Same As You

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What would people say about me? He was immoderately adrift. Maybe pathologically narcissistic. A shame he dumped Gina, the best he ever did. In essence, a man-child.

The Greenfather

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Italian authorities seized $1.9 billion in "green" investments made by La Cosa Nostra to launder money. Reuters

Chewy

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Chewy is an old dog. His face is mostly white.

Noir

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Upstairs, in a room where some years later, the occupant would be murdered by his lover, I sat in my skivvies in an armchair and wondered if I should call my wife.

The Answer Man

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Her legs splayed out in front of her. She was a mess

In This Neo-Liberal Society, We Are All Julia Roberts

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When he was 24 he ran away with a girl, forgot about his little office job in the city, went with her to the mountains, just the two of them, to live out a life of romance that a chalk box like the metropolis can’t give you—

Denouement

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No one has the right/ to script how someone dies.

Here is a game...

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I give you three words dripping wet with whatever and you take them, harbor them...

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 36

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Vicki's scream echoed in Michiko's ear, an unwelcome earworm.

Three-toed Sloth Love

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Couldn’t we just do a quick ie

Agora

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Sometimes I think our gathering is a ritual centered on collective visualization. Other times I feel like I have been physically transported. I am not sure there is a difference.

China

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Your words broke meLike a china vase dropped to the floorAnd though the pieces were recoveredStuck together with love and compassionThe cracks are there for those who lookI was happy to be there, content in that placeYou wanting to be somewhere elseNever telling me where…

The Watcher

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the dark brown cloaked warden stands on his lofty perch

Wish for the Left Hand

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Hardly a soul could pin him for creating the vehemence that found a streamule to her pen if she wrote in cursive or a fanjet to her keyboard if she typed quickly and satisfyingly in print, employing eight fingers and two thumbs—