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Falling from Grace

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Royce fell from Grace and landed in the fountain surrounding her pedestal. It wasn't the first time Royce had climbed the statue. It was the first time he'd been sober.

Good Use

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I found a field where all the unanswered prayers were once buried but someone someone someone had dug them up again and was putting them to good use

Beach Tale

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I should have worn shorts.

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

Molly

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Molly stared at the woman behind the desk with a headset attached to her head, and sighed.

Sometimes everything is depthless.

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There is some debate about what kind of twins they are. It’s a fissure between aesthetics and science.

The Young Hate the Old

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The old hate the young. Robe exposed monks do not Hate mosquitoes. It is one. It is one hand. It is on. Mountains don't hate sky. The rich hate the poor. The poor hate the rich. The parade of scholars hate the …

Promenade

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At the week's end, memories may come to you Of weekends same as those just gone before, That fade away from seeing as a tide's grey flue, That vanishes once travelled to a shifting shore: Still, hope you'll know a girl for an hour anew, One who fades…

Love and How It Gets That Way

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and we spun you, / spun you!

One

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His will is whole, inviolate, and wholly full of possibility.

On news of your demise

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The news just now that you are dead

Siren

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There it it again, that noise. That low hum that I know so well now, spinning, gaining momentum in my head, like a cyclist in a velodrome, until its steadiness and roundness becomes sharp, painful, cutting like glass.

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

Mr. Bourgeois Drowns His Sorrows

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Late last night down at Jim's Saloon Everyone expected that the last balloon Would go Boom! The one they all saw coming And Lady Liberty would send the bad guys running

Song In the American Soul - song

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Through the lonely night All the roads are breathing While somewhere on the road The American soul lies bleeding The past is all in yellow The future’s all in blue While living in the moment Has lost its rosy hue

Letter to Garrison Keillor

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Hilda Raz lost a daughter. Her son gained a persona, backed by biological components. I was impressed by his male-pattern baldness. A biological genius. And yet, I was reduced and in the elevator mentioned crying about it.

Palinode for a Love That Failed

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

Until We See Again

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I saw a big dog By the side of the road I saw a small deer By the side of the road A little maroon water in a glass As I was driving home Under darkness With the wind that was under a rose New blood will fill the earth And we must lo

The Jewelry of Yaks

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It’s too early in the morning to play the glockenspiel. I’ll just sit here and knit this tiger.

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.

Love in the Nick of Time

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a dance in the moonlight

Resistance

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I can no longer conjure the sweetness of a plum

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,…

Big Top Boogie

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I had the blues. I was feeling down the day the circus came to town. There was cash in my pocket and a bag of weed. I went to the circus with a desperate need to renew my faith in the good of mankind. Perhaps under the big top some laughs I’d find.

Portrait without Birds

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so Tippi has no interest

My First Winter in Massachusetts

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My first winter in Massachusetts feels medieval: cold, dark, and endless.

Treasured Souls

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Oh, but we have lost-- such treasured souls, at immeasurable costs. Oh, but we do moan and cry-- such treasured souls, no tangible, useable reasons why. Oh, but we whose hearts do bleed-- such treasured souls, we…

picture (im)perfect

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not

Pahk Your Kahma in Hahvahd Yahd

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“Namaste,” I say as I hand the guy his ticket. “The divinity within me salutes the divinity within you. Have a nice freaking day.”

Shenanigans 3 - Appreciation

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... if he planned to install them in their bedroom she would find them more than a little distracting.