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luncheon on the grass

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I had a dream, I remember, where I am in this painting, Luncheon on the Grass. My dress was thrown off and the picnic basket, filled with bread and fruit, is spilled out upon it, and I am sitting nude on my underclothing, with two gentlemen fully dresse

Poetry & Poets

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“I’ve read your blog recently,” my friend told me over waffles and cold potato salad at 10PM, “and something strange is going on in there.”

Valentine query

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Did I flirt first?

NOLA's Nightcap

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I need to be commended, despite the wine glass that threw itself at your sister's head of rollers. Imagine a pear in the deli meat aisle ripening behind glass...

More L.A. Stories from the Land of One Night Stands, #3

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and lie down naked in my bed on her back, with her hands frozen at her sides like a deflowered virgin in the Gauguin painting “The Loss of Virginity,” almost breastless, and wait for me to lick her sopping until she almost came, but she could never quite

Crisp and New

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He told me it isn’t my fault. That my brain isn’t slowly and deliberately killing itself, not barbarically stripping away its own wiring to expose razor bursts of electricity.

Control

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The eater's pose extending the fork in hand toward the bowl wherein the appetizer lay readied. Salad, carefully configured for its purposes mixing vitality with pleasure which should not be differentiated, don't you agree? Colors selected for their…

the swan gliding before death

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When you awaken on the other side, you will see, I was like the swan gliding before death, and the animating power of her is willing and unavoidable. And you are itching, feeling an inextinguishable sexual desire, its nightmare ink burnt in your head, n

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 45

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Rent yourself a decent place to live, one with a shower.

flash

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you're landscape under her flight path, brother one dash in a dotted line

Misanthropy in an Age of Propaganda

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We have become// the sum of our appetites,/ the growth curve of our dominion.

Buena Vista Street

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Nostalgia is when memories turn into Gods of knowing who you were.

Quit Complaining, Willya!

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"You think life is supposed to be easy? Whoever told you that? My life is anything but easy; still you don't hear me whining all over the place. And, trust me, I could teach you a thing or two about suffering.

a confession

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a pit-bull or a rottweiler or something like that

UNFINISHED

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In his dreams he was building a house. He wasn't sure if it was in the city or in the country. He wasn't sure. He thought, perhaps, it looked like the city but there seemed to be too many trees.

The Grey Day and the Blue Day

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The reality of the now makes tomorrow very distant.

Band Member

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If I had one of those, she said, I’d never get anything done. So naughty. Now my bones get goose-bumps too. We were playing in my rock group Spotty Behavior, and she was lead singer in The Young Vaginas, fronting for a band called The Cherry

The Circumcised Heart

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You shall hear, against your ear, the beating of a circumcised heart.

AND I WILL REMAIN AS CAUTIOUS AS EVER

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We’re on the phone dead battery & I want this to last forever. The last thing I want to do is make decisions.

Character Witness

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You will say how easy it was to love him, How he is kind, gentle, Quick to rub your shoulders in the evening And never one to forget an anniversary. They will ask you of his interests, moods, pass-times And you will silently think of…

Cache

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Could I cache your kisses?

the furrows running with milk light

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I remember the first time you made love to me. It appears I was one of the lucky ones … it wasn’t in a car, it wasn’t in your Dad’s boat, underwater, or any other weird place you've written about. It was actually in your bedroom … in a bed! And how

FIREWORKS

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It's eight fifteen in the morning, my favorite time to call, and a guy named Ernie DeCampo answers the door in his work pants and a t-shirt. “Good morning, Mr.De Campo,” I say. “Do you have any fireworks in your home?” …

Ice Box

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To become an objection as cool as an ice box. To wither the crops. To hold a baby in your hands. Never mind, the arms. We shoot photographs of you. I still believe in black bile. I still think I'm holy. This rhyme is non-violent. Snap.

The Serendipitous Nature of Being

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To do the proper set up for the story, it was taking me some time, but each bit was important to the outcome, and while he likened me to Higgens on the old Magnum P.I. series, I just laughed at his slowly closing eyes and folded arm, caught in a half cur

The Old Man (The End)

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The dark staircase creaked as he crept down to the basement. The even whoosh-whoosh of the washing machine was comforting to him. He reached for the light as he entered the room. A dim bulb blinked on above him. There was a small table across the room f

GULLS, GULLS, GULLS

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"The shipyards of the soul do not exist." The Colussus has always been a colossal waste, and the riddle of Your Father's Identity confounds no one but yourself. What a riddle, what pills! He was known for…

Drunk, There are Cymbals for Everything

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On the way back from New Jersey this afternoon, my dad kept pressing “seek” on the radio dial so he could find WBLS, which we listened to last night, also on our way back from New Jersey. I was driving last night because I wanted to and because I think my dad…

.38

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His name was Gino. I’ll leave out the last name, not that I think it matters anymore. He came into my dad’s gas station on the near North side of Chicago to have work done on his fancy car. I was still a teenager. I accidentally opened the glove compartme

Nude Ascending the Stairway to Heaven

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Whoever told us that truth-telling was so wonderful, when we can plainly see that lying is the way to get results?