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Palinode for a Love That Failed

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Palinode: A poem written to retract something said in a prior poem.

The Sadness of Being On Line and (Bonus Extra!) The Driver

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He had to get over the short bridge

Rocking the Oldies: A Cautionary Tale

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We didn't know what what we were reading meant. We didn't even know if we were reading it right. In fact, we suspected that we probably were not.

Ready

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Kudzu obscures the gate where jasmine bloomed last summer.

Pets

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But in the dust bunny there was an equally relentless and sneaky foe. A brilliant General that silently marshaled its troops under tables and chairs, in obscure, shadowy corners, and along the unsuspecting flat surface of things.

The Dork Shoe

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A strange man tapped my door and held up the shoes for me to see. “It is the Dork Shoe,” he said. I looked past him at his dusty station wagon filled with boxes. “I have your size right here.” I observed the halo of his gray hair as he…

Love in the Nick of Time

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a dance in the moonlight

Error Bars

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Is death like standing in a room at night and turning off the lights? You would still hear your breathing. You hold your breath. Silence. Darkness. Yet you feel gravity, your feet on the floor. Then the air brushes your skin. Remove the air,…

gravelortian part 4

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rinse plate cup glass spoon bowl soapy water

Requiem for a Laptop

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I don’t understand what happened. I keep pushing your buttons but you won’t do anything. You just lie there, cold and dead, staring back at me without any light and I feel like I’m going to cry.

Edward Ogle the Fifth

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Roaming beetles knitting needles chopstick counter attack.

Delicate

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I'm not plagued with high levels. Must be all the raking I do. My pubes look as lush as my hair, so fire isn't even a concern. Maybe heat exhaustion is.This might be a poem,My oceans aren't small.

The Watcher

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the dark brown cloaked warden stands on his lofty perch

Beach Tale

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I should have worn shorts.

Out of sync

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I've been floating dearadriftI could not see you clearlythrough the tattered, hazy scrim the boundary between usmight as well have been a canyonyou reached for me anda vice tightenedaround my headI wanted to merge with youmy heart wished for abrilliant explosion of limb…

Falling Rocks in Equal Doses

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Not sure I remember what's important, but I remember you. That's the whole problem I think. You're a drain where all my words wind up going down. All of them get lost inside of you. Eventually. And I'm left with nothing to say. Because all my words are…

1

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That evening, my friend and I were at a McDonalds'. It was late in the evening, and we got together after she sent me a text message she meant to send to someone else. I got a burger. She got fries.

Genius

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Everything I write is gold, he mused. My words spill onto the page like ambrosia, nectar of the gods, filling an empty vessel with immortal life.

they came to explain the wind

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How we segued from exploring the wind to eating a nitwit sandwich.

A Dream History of Outer Space

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Look. There's just you and me, that's all that's left. All the rest of them had already given up a long, long time ago. They dropped their precious, colorful dreams like rusted railroad lanterns, like abandoned pumpkins, and littered the Twitching…

If You Trace Even One of My Words

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with a finger I will (let you) know. If you mean even just one given look at the moon I will know that, too. If you peel off one lonely star and put that shining shell in your watch pocket for later or to skip across your sad …

Remembering Conway

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But you can have a lap dance.

Things I Like To Do When I Don't Feel Like Doing Anything

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Run up and down the hill shouting Hollywood! Hollywood! Hollywood! Order a penis size enhancer for everyone in the neighborhood. Invent theorems for the unrivalled glory of eggnog. Get drunk on utter futility. Pack my favorite suitcase with tree bark…

Wildfire

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Those resting in clusters of bones, Cradled in ashes of what once were homes.

Wind Calling

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Listening to old friends speak the same way, the same things tells me they have been dead a long time. They are in their form of living, their self, there is no new season of growth. I witness each of them continue on the same path because it is familiar

Ares Considers a Career Change

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Barbarians and savages wore feathers/ or frightful face paint or skin tones// one could recognize and aim for/ with weapons one could feel

Help Us Locate Ourselves

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dove from the trenches, double-check

Along the Battlement

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We creep the hill, flat on our bellies through yellowed grass and stone, black dirt grimed on our bright faces like powdered war paint. We are sitting ducks as we approach, out in the open like this but Cobb believes no one will be watching this side; it

Fortune Favours

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We're all just meat and atoms who can no more sense into the great beyond than a horse can fly a plane.

How Many Remain

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how many lighted days remain