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Sweet Charity

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Troy approached the podium and cleared his throat.

Cape Charles

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"ain't hardly got a lick o' crabs today"

In The Arms of Veronica

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Her smile was a cliff I stood on, trying to wrangle some kind of hope from the whites of her teeth. I heard the sound of the buzzer from the door on my ward. She stood there, a sickly ash tree, each limb flailing about like she was drowning in my sea of a

Main Street

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You know when you see the flashing blue lights in your rearview mirror that you're not being pulled over because of a busted taillight or carelessly doing fifty in a thirty-five mile an hour school zone; your crime is being a Black man behind the wheel. It happens often…

The End of the Gig

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His throat had turned red after a few days of singing, and when he looked in the mirror he saw little sacs of white pus, like pimples, in the back of his mouth. “You got to pace yourself,” the big black woman who sang at the other beer garden told him.

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…

Rivers of red

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Proudly we fight, yetWe run, we hideIn the jungle's quietBut how can we hushthe screams of the dead?

Thirty Seconds

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Some guys get by on hope or hate or both. Some lose their minds, if they brought them in the first place.

the way you make me feel

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out in space/ platonic forms/ dazzle with/ voluptuous grace

coffee

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OldShe would amble into this coffee shopevery dayOrdered her cup of coffeeWhen she finished it, she would wave thecontainer in the air shouting "waitress, waitress,another one please."As the waitress came to her for her refill, she would put her hand in her tattered bag and…

Memory Theater

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In a space capsule he is an astronaut. In his spacesuit he is dressed like chewing gum.

Babel

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As if reaching for the Divine was the problem

The Grey Day and the Blue Day

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The reality of the now makes tomorrow very distant.

Do Unto Buzz

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I parked an outhouse in Buzz's front yard late last night and blew it up. I suppose I should feel bad, but I don't. In fact, I think I strained something trying not to laugh out loud as I watched the contents of the crapper spatter all over the front of B

Keep Breathing

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While you sleep, I wait for you to die.

Natural Histories II

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n truth, they are not red/ but chestnut./ But “Chestnut Wasp” lacks menace

Alex and Dee Dee

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I was going to write a love poemabout a man named Alex and agirl named Dee Dee, but I couldn'tremember them as well as I wanted. I knew about the time she painted theirnames on the overpassbut I have forgottenthings about them. I don't know what became of…

WILD

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Most days you couldn't win; the constant nag from the fact that it was all a game was your only comfort. I was at the unemployment office again. The gal at the counter'd seen me enough to know when the printer was out of ink so she could walk away.

For Later

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. . . lightening for their jars

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

Left to our own Dvices

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No one knew why DVices were so hard to find. No one knows for sure anyway.

Rags to Riches to Rags, 2

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My brothers, who helped support our poor mother, were Rudy and Emil, and there was a sister Blanche, who got married early on and ran off to Atlanta and never looked back at our dire situation. And Helen, who stayed in Chicago. And Silvia, who moved out

blog - Feb - bad month - 42 cents

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Let’s see. February. Bad month. Made 42 cents on book sales. Sherry’s mom died. 98 years old. Holocaust survivor. Everybody’s dying all around us, it seems like. Somebody told us a portal has opened and people are making a dash for it. Hmmm. Portals. I wo

Wilting Magnolia

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White sneakers cry, dripping from the power lines.

Which Way to the Vomitorium

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When I saw that Chez Panisse was serving crawdaddies (the menu called them crayfish, but I know a crawdaddy when I see it), I relaxed. I didn't eat the ugly creatures when my brother fished them out of irrigation ditches back on our farm near Roswell, and

Nigtingale

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Thirty is nothing, she said, Wait till you really start to fall apart. I wanted to tell her I already have, but you can't ever say anything like that, especially not on your birthday, especially not to the woman who's just bought you spaghetti and wants

David and Big Bird

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Hot sweaty bodies slam into each other to get aboard the overflowing subway car. I struggle to wedge myself though the sliding doors, bracing for more bodies to press against mine. The passengers in front of me suddenly stop and fan out.

Who's Going To Defend the Love

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we feel entitled to, so unwanted, afraid for, from the billions of stomping oafs, leaping onto our hearts like squishing jelly sandwiches for fun, bullies in power out there? To be brilliant onits tiny behalf? I forget, exactly whyare you still here anyway? Don't…

Cache

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Could I cache your kisses?

Framed Papers

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He fished a tissue from a hidden pocket and dabbed his forehead, then called the cops.