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There is Truth in imperfection,Symmetry in distortion.Like a sounding well,You can determine the depth of me--PlumbTruthfrom myCore.Test your breath against meSay lies all--I will not believe them.Here am I,Proof Against your intransigence.But do not despair:There…
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(I would cite here “corpse plumbers”, but I fear being misconstrued.)
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We reach for things and objects//
made of ever smaller things and objects
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So tell me what it takes. // My wallet is so fat / I sit lopsided.
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I got caught writing poems
at the paint factory
several times
before they fired me
I got caught in the middle
of one of my best lines
but can’t remember what
I meant to say
anymore,
but I know, just know
it was something real good,
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seven birds on the wire turn in unison to the right
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When I was 14 I accidentally heard a woman saying behind my back
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His hands are just like mine The crook of his nose The green of his glare Pearls of his mouth The soft strength of his voice Those diligent digits The brick of his build The grim complexion of father She fell for familiar A man just like me …
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The coals lose their glow.Sun kisses the back of my neck goodbye.Someone plays Boys of Summer one more time.The cooler tips... The tides go out...
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They'd driven the car there but had lost the keys so that it simply sat out in the yard, the yard of the house they couldn't leave because they'd lost the keys to the house as well as to the car, so they were kind of stuck. Their neighbors…
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Will you leave me, you, the one?
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I pointed to the strange man. “Who’s this?” I said.
Ethan looked puzzled. “That’s a man with his head on fire.”
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"Too many people were presenting themselves in a false light on lunch dates,” she says. “The power ties on the men, the come-you-know-what-me pumps on the women–that’s not what married life is about.”
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At night, I watch TV shows with fictional characters who lead my life.
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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.
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"You're my husband, for chrissake!"
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Almonds of childhood – fending off needless tears and chocolate impulses, almonds of my teens, slivered and toasted industrially baked settling in on egg washed croissant…mashed into the kitchen sink of the catch-all bear claw, then the taste and shiv
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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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I got a rash under my wedding ring. I took the ring off and filed for divorce the next day. Mike begged me to stay. But when you can't trust your judgement, you have to trust the signs. Mommy had a rash like that. I used to see it in the shower. People think it's…
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I know I shouldn’t brag, but you bought me roses, a dozen. I felt I could balance anywhere, when I was with you. I could achieve poise on the head of a pin. There was no need to hide anything, and I heard night music wherever we went. I sat with lovers,
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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
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The little Lady and I drove down to New Orleans to take in the Mardi Gras festivities we’d read so much about.
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She reached out her arms and spoke to the moon, "I ran from my fears, from loving too soon." She gazed at the heavens and cried to the stars, "I could not promise him all of my heart." She wiped away her tears and laughed at the trees, "Not a soul on this earth would…
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He sat on the floor and said, "I found this letter W in the jungle. It's b-b-beautiful,"
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Published in Calamities Presshttp://calamitiespress.com/2014/08/24/peace-be-with-you-slippy-realism-by-joao-cerqueira/ Peace be with you Jesus returned to earth by walking down the middle of…
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"The Impossible Dream." That time they drove to North Carolina and Ellen threw up and nobody but Dad felt like eating, so Dad stopped at McDonald's and the smell of hamburgers made Ellen throw up again. This time, on Frank.
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We were both looking up at the rainy sky, while the big jet barely moved through the clouds, coming in for a landing at Oakland between storms.
It sort of reminded me of 911, the way they just seemed to hover above us, barely moving, like they were poss
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I can't tell a cigarette from a cheese sandwich as I stare vacantly into the synthetic sunshine of my laptop.
Jump up a few lines to add a comma to show the possession of clocks
they do belong to people after all.
I sip my coffee from a novelty mug, ho
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