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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…

Puppet X, 2

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It’s important to sound Human, I know To get fragile Near your Mother I myself Get glimpses Now & then Once, Eating chicken, staring At the inside Of a muscle Once During a bad thunderstorm While running down the stairs

This Pretty Business

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Oh it's another one of those strange thrill rides slowly building from a buzz saw whisperinto cool morning's consciousness, coming on and crawling through the moon's mattress like a silver stream and under the dented pillow where…

you were on top of us freely

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I remember you were on top of us freely, and we were starry with enjoyment. You turned to the beautiful youth because we were light, because we were so full of life that our skin alone could not seem to contain us. We were burning, burning on all

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.

Seriously Lynched

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And what about: there's this signature dessert at the restaurant where you are eating and it is called DEATH BY CHOCOLATE? And you know it is, because you've had it, and wow.

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

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He had to get over the short bridge

***Breaking News!***

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FedEx merges with UPS becoming FedUp

gravelortian part 24

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Outside cool fresh morning tiny fingers

There is No Logic in the Immediate Fact

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of a strangely found desire. I wanted to tell you something important, I'm sure, I mean it's pretty obvious, even in this funny breathing space, but everything has been said to death. More isn't always…

Confession

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As a boy Edward had stayed in the confessional several times in a row. The priest was drunk and couldn't tell it was the same kid over and over. The tiny door slid open…”Scobbity bobbity…tell me your sins…” Edward confessed what he thought were sins, then said…

Couch Potato Blues

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Whenever I get the urge to write a poem I try to talk myself out of it.

cleveland

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The girl went outside her door and stood and stared at the sky.there were clouds in the sky. the girl wore glasses with black framesthe girl stared at the sky some more and put on a bright yellow baseball hatshe sat in a white resin chairthe girl sat quietly and watched the…

Five Million Yen: Chapter 28

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Ben watched Monique disappear into the first-class cabin. It didn’t seem likely that he would see her again after this flight.

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.”

Rain Song at Summer’s End

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Soft rain, small rain, steady rain— what the shrubs and tangled young red oak tree need—

Beach Tale

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I should have worn shorts.

Moment to Moment

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The memory fades so quickly, It makes me wonder if it ever really happened? Then I have to create something new from scratch to fill the space Yeah, there are patterns, and sudden movements that pass for recollections, but couldn't they as…

Brain Camp

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....

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.

Your words.

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Your words are Ambien.

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.

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.

Her

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If you were looking for her She's in the backwoods grafting your skin from her thighs

gravelortian part 4

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rinse plate cup glass spoon bowl soapy water

Owen's Song

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"I hate people"

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 Wedding Is Off

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I sat in the kitchen with the phone in my hand. The phone had just stopped ringing. When it rang, its screen lit up with the face of the caller. It vibrated and played a tune called "Dusk 2 Dawn." Now the kitchen was silent.

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—

Voices of the Dying

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raging on road and page