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Rest In Peace

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Gone he is in his designated place Just resting in peace while I barely move on

After coming back from nowhere,

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you notice some of what you need― a pressure of something you've intended, somewhere without a place,

A Return to Silence

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Instead we dunked the men in vats of grease and boiling water. Instead we tore apart the books from which they emerged. Instead we found the graves of their mothers and detonated bombs.

Whenever I am

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alone and soaring in your eyesanother new journey for mebegins; my lifewants to make sense ofitself only for you, goingdeeper, hand youthe keys to that kingdom'srare maps and say,here,"fly, dream, fall to love'slake." You deserve it all.I swear…

on a long suburban plain

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We were stuck sweating it out on a long suburban plain when you left. Or else we’d mob the one visible hill (in Palos Hills, or Hillside) and turn the televisions on, looking behind us nervously, hopelessly, until every evening became a Wednesday evenin

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 46

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Maria Monsanto, the curator of Francesco Martinelli's Atmospheres show, stood in the middle of the third-floor gallery.

The Dummy Drop

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I looked at my now silent cell phone feeling like an idiot. Thad was standing next to me, that shit eating grin plastered on his face like gravy stains on an old shirt."So Genius Jones, what the fuck did he say to you?" asked Thad, sarcasm dripping onto the floor. "She blew…

Mo Bands

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Beeswax Just Kill Me Beam Me Up Deep-Fried Twinkie End of Lust Hootchie and the Eye Patch Boy Crazy Instant Success Sleeping Geezers Cyber Shoes

Reunion

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You’d think we all would have learned something in our hearts since the towers fell, he thought, as Amy slid away from him. You had to get some perspective on the city, some view from outside, far outside, maybe from space, which would have afforded them

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.

Drinking the Wild Virgin

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I really think we ought to be drinking The Wild Virgin again I remember having a beer once And feeling like a minor god, yes Just like you did So, now, listen to me: if she snores all night That’s one thing But if she screws the lights out

Voice of the Past

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You are about to experience a voice from the past. Here we go ... jet back to about 1964. I remember you with the same beard (just a different color!) and slightly longer hair. I remember drinking lots of beer and wine in your basement with Shel

A Way of Place

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There are people walking, not knowing where they are, a way to peace is just that-- a place to go.

The We

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You gotta see this new drugdelivered thru a procedurally exacting pill Sugar coated yetcompletely foul tastingDrought drowning and will make you blowfish-cheekedIt creates coincidences with bafflement and symmetry Meaningfully uncertain…

The Tote Bag Song

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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

Of Poems About Figs and Farts

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When Prince Rainier III asked an expert whether there was a literature of Monaco, her research produced only a suggestive ode to a fig and a poem about a fart.

Other Brothers of American Crime, Chapter Fourteen

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An extended account of his criminal exploits for a criminal syndicate of Midwestern newspapers and radio stations hastened a change of career plans.

Drought

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Everything is at sixes and sevens.

A Hundred Feet

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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.

Falling

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She lets the book drop through her fingers to the floor and stares straight ahead watching the red lights streak by in the darkness. The train rocks her away from the seat and back; she rolls her spine along the plastic to absorb the motion, taking it away from…

2 Poems featuring A Century of Art

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"MAN S FEET HAVE GROWN/SO BIG THAT HE/FORGETS HIS LITTLENESS"--DON MARQUISA Century of Art by Darryl Price"Man's feet have grown so big that he forgets his littleness."--Don Marquis Everything in this chummy little place talks to your face without stopping to…

Dubious Appetite

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Looking back now, examining from a distance the sequence of events I failed to connect as anything beyond queer happenstance...

Mirror, Handheld

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the making by taking away

In December, 1998, we dropped more bombs on Iraq

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This is between the two wars, so it surprises you when TV screens light up with this in the hotel breakfast room. You are in Delhi, you were supposed to fly home last night but fog canceled everything.

no-name time of day

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"covered in a sheen of sweat, flowers of salt bloom on my T-shirt"

Seventy

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She was a rich widow who lived down the street.

Intensive Seminar Helps Cat Poets Sharpen Their Claws

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With a notch in his ear from an honor-mad fight And a tail that is shorter than at last sunlight.

He Invented Carbon Dating for Seniors, and Couch Potato Chips

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I saw an older writer in a slouched-down Fedora, gray beard and long scraggly gray ponytail, who had empty chairs pulled up all around him, at the Loser Café, maybe for his imaginary friends, or maybe those who were already gone.

A Story About A.Who Wants to Be An Entrepreneur

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A. wants to be an entrepreneur but cannot get with the program.

Lost and Found

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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.