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Things That Are Sad

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Things that are sad.

La lengua

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I have one, but I want another, A little greedy perhaps. She's my obsession, my indiscretion, My little judgment lapse.

O Starving Poet

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A novel is an idea that has Survived many severe beatings While a poem is a homely thing that was Never even asked to the dance Art Speak, however, is the art of Systematically overstating and Re-inventing the Obvious to the point of Distr

Unreality Television

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I was told, take him round the back and deal with him.

circles, the round

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and skirts, lovely batiks, swirl around your ankles

Now

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I'm looking for the perfect/passage, a safe, sound/jettison to now.

A Child is Born

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I came out of the Quick Stop and found her in the back seat of my ten-year-old Camry. I don’t know who she is, or why she chose my car. I do know she’s having a baby any minute now.

Ai Kitano

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Sick of sight, Ai Kitano constructed glasses by which the wearer was rendered totally blind.

Confrontation on the field of play

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The boy wasn’t raised this way.

The Angel with The Broken Wing

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"She was like a perimeter guard for an advanced race of beings who looked human but were somehow para-human entities focused only temporarily within this dimension."

Outing

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My friend and I were arranging the things in my closet because we literally had nothing to do but he found himself in my house again, which he described to me like a disease...

This Bud’s For You

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I suspect I’ll make the right decision.

Meet Your Happy-Go-Lucky Poet

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"Time is an ocean, but it ends at the shore. You may not see me tomorrow."--Bob DylanThey're writing poems, but not for me. Guess I'll write one for my own. For nobody that I know now. It's a pretty lonely world for someone who sings, not you, not with…

Spring

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We fall through two feet of clouds and dragons before we land softly on our feet in clover and crab grass.

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

Working at a Truck Stop Outside Charlotte

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My name's Barbara and don't call me Barbie if you want to be my friend.

Intentional Households

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Bradley turns out to be a walking red flag. He approaches as I unload the U-Haul and says, "Hi, I'm Bradley. I'm not very modest so you might see me from time to time in various stages of undress." Bradley is the last man on Earth I wish to see undressed.

On the Deeper Slants of the Universe

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Everything makes sense.

Tiny Breaths

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Fire and ice undo me. I am born again, born again through the burning ice and biting flame. Listlessly floating cinder-like on lost cusps of wind that multiply with every with every single with every single breath. Spitfire grail and…

Keep more opinions to yourself

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You read your fortune cookie:

"Not like a duck"

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with its head cut off

Submission

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Periodically I try to vacuum up their eight-legged asses but they hide in the cable drop.

Extract from my Fantasy book

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Lucien ran through a burning vortex in desperation ignoring the cries of his friend. It was a flux of Satanic majesty. The floodlight of the fire was incredibly grim, but it did not hurt his eyes. Have you ever seen painted glass windows in a cathedral built by the…

The Colony of Voluntary Exiles

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Voluntary exiles spread fears and feces, diseases and monstrosities, all the suffering and suffocation, ruthlessness and rootlessness of the world, just like a horsefly that cheekily spreads its filthy eggs in the most paradisiacal corners of the earth. Hence the…

Bird's Eye View

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seven birds on the wire turn in unison to the right

Puppet X, 16

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When we lie down under the wind the trees swaying looking out over the fields soft cobweb of a brain exposed to hail exposed to snow trying to back away from it unable knowing the earth (the face it will take) our

Section 8

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To a desert island I pick a book of crosswords for my one item. It is a desert island. What could be more practical? I awake in the middle of the night, an itch in my throat. I blow my nose. Weird gobbets of blood ring my Kleenex. It drizzles out now, wet here, gelatinous…

the last day of the world

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I thought that was the last day of the world (when I floated up near your ceiling,) but it was the first. I thought I had seen the worst. But that was nothing. I know you had no idea what was coming when I first met you. But when we looked in each other

Writing Prompts

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If you want to be a writer, just write stuff.

Little Box of Courage

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Something I loathe even more than children are Floridian Drivers. It's not even because of their horrid driving capabilities, but more so because of their attitudes. Within the confines of their comfy little car, they are able to build up the…