1162 0 0
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My name is Op. That is what they call me, because everything anyone says, right away I think the opposite and head that way. So I am Op.
I spent the War in Georgia, a section of southern Russia near the Black Sea, which is how I survived that whole mes
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1162 2 1
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Where exactly is your head at, dude?
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1162 2 2
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He sure can play piano
With those giant lobster hands
In his ratty raccoon coat
And his old black cowboy hat
His boots of Spanish leather
And face like sultry weather
His raspy croaking voice
Picking out the words so choice
They reall
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1161 1 2
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Sometimes I try to hum / along with the air conditioning, / and pretend I do not exist, but am merely / the space that fills the room.
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1161 4 2
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My inner shape must be a ruin of organs,/
dead or dying. But do come close enough/
for me to hear. I need to know your story.
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1161 10 7
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May the timing belt stand the stress again
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1161 8 0
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1161 0 0
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I think I have experienced this before: This fractal sigh upon the star-scarped floor, That makes this concrete mock of valley heath- Below the traffic lanterns at the door, Of frigid other flowers lovers ‘queath None but their eyes to.…
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1161 0 0
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The rings on the engine
Not designed for race gas
Did allow for some seepage
Did allow fuel to pass
The fumes were quite powerful
To the pan they did charge
The spark was quite forceful
The explosion was large
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1161 2 0
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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
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1161 3 2
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Here’s the local group of grumpy gray-haired men
Chewing over politics as if it’s important
As if their endless discussing of it,
Waving their hands in the air, gesturing,
Is going to change the world
How do these guys stop from having heart a
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1161 2 1
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The orvanginateusse scrambled from the grounds with such speed and grace that I could only admire it from a distance
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1161 2 2
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Spilled milk it is --lactate of common desire;water under the bridge, slow-moving, white. So this is what we feed on: the past and present here for the licking.Sweat is water too,for the hungry, and any past will do. Parched mouths kiss just as well as…
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1161 1 1
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I like to keep my mind uncluttered for truly fresh information, like the fact that T.S. Eliot taught Virginia Woolf the Chicken Strut. That's news you can use.
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1160 0 0
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Our fingers, arms and toes slither over one another along the smooth crevices between muscle and bone like familiar childhood paths.
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1160 4 1
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I knocked on all the windows, on all the doors. No one answered. The television was glowing. I went around behind your house and saw it through the curtains, blowing in. (I knew you were hurting.) Knocked and tried the sliding glass door, the flimsy scr
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1160 24 11
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I remembered our wedding reception. I tasted the crab cake, pulled her from greeting people, said, you have to try. And she did.
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1160 1 1
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I hold down the control-alt-delete keys simultaneously and the screen goes blank, sending Camus into a paroxysm of fear; for a guy who wrote an essay on facing down suicide, he’s kind of jumpy.
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1160 4 3
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You always liked the color of your nose, raspberry red. It matched the glittery dazzle of your rainbow hair when the neon lights hit it just right, and man did they always hit it just right, the vibrant honey-yellow big-bird frizz and feathers, swaying to and fro as…
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1160 4 5
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But El Roy
Never listen no so
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1160 1 1
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1160 4 3
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He called himself Theodore Birdwhistle.
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1160 1 0
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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.
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1160 1 1
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Breaking the cat's cradled cord she examines her fingernails. She notices a crack in the paintwork, sighs to herself. Makes a mental note to cover it over.
Cover it over, paint over the cracks. There's been a lot of that recently, hasn't there?
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1160 2 2
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White sneakers cry, dripping from the power lines.
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1159 6 6
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Deists try to prove the existence of God. I do not doubt God nor evidence of the existence of Jesus nor Jesus' miracles. I merely wish there were more people like him
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1159 3 0
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...afraid of cancer, fire, floods, famine, being audited by the IRS....the list goes on and on....
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1159 0 0
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The smell of your chest, and the taste of your lips
as they touch mine
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1159 1 1
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the arc of her invective presumably aimed at the little boy and girl ambling halfway down the block behind her
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1159 5 5
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most famously, a small/
writhing dog. A thousand casts were made/
before they stopped
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