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They first hook you in with how cute they are. And they are cute, do not get me wrong. I'm not, nor have I ever been, fundamentally against babies—until now. As the first reviewer of this oh-so-wonderful app, my intention is not to…
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I glance back over my shoulder as you fumble with the keys. Repeatedly. You swear a little under your breath. You finally locate the proper one and the large door swings open. I hold it as you run over to the alarm keypad. You punch in the code written on a…
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I stood at a workbench for eight hours a day, scraping various shapes and bits of metal fresh from the machinist’s press, plotting my escape.
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And yes, I may be the goddess of personified flesh, the same little goddess of curled locks, of little sleep, on fire, ablaze. With my sudden weakness, stoppage of breath, pulse cut short, leaving the wrist.
And you of stolen, fraudulent face, troub
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Adrienne found her calling in Africa
feeding poor children
or whatever the fuck you do
when you're in the Peace Corps.
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Billy's days were much like his yesterdays, with little hope the ones to come would be any different.
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"covered in a sheen of sweat, flowers of salt bloom on my T-shirt"
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He knew it was messed up and wrong, but sometimes she was the last thing he’d see before the dam burst. It made him feel both the best and the worst.
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That night in the stable the three wise men were the only ones who had read books. All the rest became victims of circumstance. Characters amazing in their own right. To be written and talked about for centuries. Totally…
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There's a potent multimedia declaration Flying eagles starred and striped Mocking cartoon independence Where every promise shines Not every veteran's hero Chequered drug misuse Glorious public relations Concealed a…
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This spring darkness is winding around my neckin the age of video, how many times I've seen her at the zoowith your eyes, as if seeing for the first timeher early morning breath, tripping your woman, your angelas she arrived on the beach when it was still too dark to see…
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Why I roamed these flats, choir-Like floors of a century forgivenAnd wedded in an XXL gownIs beyond us. Give me something extra, please. This Town rides in like a school bus.
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What I’ve got is
priceless,
but no one
wants it.
Hmmm.
I wonder if
I can
give it away,
or have to
haul it to the
dump?
What I have is priceless.
Priceless.
What I have
is priceless,
but no one wants it.
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1103 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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Oh, I cant stop singingThis human heart beatingWhat people say do not interest meAs much what goes on in their heartsThe heart is were they are really atNo matter what they saySome call it the IdSome call it the subconscious Some call in the willSome call it the…
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1103 6 0
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It’s hard to lose. Harder than you think. I guess the ultimate question is: If I had to give up one thing, my dog, or hazelnut gelato, which would it be? I’ll tell you, between those two, it would have been easy to choose. But losing you, that was a who
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Where the Story LiesEverybody wants to knowwhere the story lies. Does itlie in childhood? Does it liein old age? Does it lie in anangry outburst or a stingingrebuke? Does it lie in a momentof compassion or in the recognitionof calloused selfishness? Bruisedlove or…
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You can ask so many questions
Of what’s it all about
You can empty out the closets
And roll the mothballs out
But no one has the answers
It’s all a mystery
There’s a bigger picture
But it’s really hard to see
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Our world is a prism floating through its own rainbow smeared shadows in a desperate attempt to get caught. Our lives are in the carpets, the planks, the winds. Whatever has heard us, has not believed in us enough to rescue us from our own …
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Through feeling her life story,
I understood mine, more,
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forsake glass; structure; light;
the impermanence of here,
or there, or you, or i.
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It was a battered, creaky, rickety old thing, this wheelbarrow. It had two wooden handles with cracks running through the wood, a fat rubber wheel and a deep tray encrusted with the mud and plaster and grout that it had transported through decades of heavy use. Based on…
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Gabe took the huge spoon and loaded it with half of his mousse. He nibbled a bite off the spoon. A big smile, amplified by Gabe’s large head, filled his face and brightened the whole room.
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pulling my bones apart, fingers are supernatural beings
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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
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“Goodnight,” he said before leaving the room and shutting his bedroom door behind him. She stood in the kitchen alone now, a shot of vodka poured into a shot glass, and a bottle of coke ready to swig afterwards. This didn't make her an alcoholic…
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Maria Monsanto, the curator of Francesco Martinelli's Atmospheres show, stood in the middle of the third-floor gallery.
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The rising sun was hidden from his eyes by the hips of the woman next to him in the bed.
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Terry marked each spot where we did it with a red “X” on this map she had taken from my dad's gas station. In those days gas stations gave out maps for free.
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