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Even if I was a Fool

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I enjoy the walk through these crowded woods. It's good to be back among deeply seated young and old trees again. That familiar smell, you want to always savor it so very much, to not deny any of it. It smells like a blue sky, the…

The Love She Can't Find Pt. 1

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She's a woman who travels often. Maybe for work. Maybe for mischief. She's a "free spirit" trapped by her desire for love. But she numbs it with the warmth of a new man's touch. She leaves herself reminders that often fail her or remain inconsistent. She wants to…

Personal Time

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“I”, fuck it. I, I, I, I. It has always only been about me, this voice of mine, indivisibly me. selfishly and pompously. I shall not dispense with the false pleasantries other writers will offer, those writers that say, “Reader, look here, look at the…

High Notes

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Jazzy midnights twisted like DNA

Meet Your Happy-Go-Lucky Poet

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"Time is an ocean, but it ends at the shore. You may not see me tomorrow."--Bob DylanThey're writing poems, but not for me. Guess I'll write one for my own. For nobody that I know now. It's a pretty lonely world for someone who sings, not you, not with…

The Confounded

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Your left hand cups your balls which are drawn up tight under a turgid fireplug cock. Your right hovers over your temple, thumb cocked at the cheek. Your eyes are dreamy, mouth wry, chest and belly furry and fat. You're a picture in a file on my desktop on which…

Wilbur

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This girl who looks about ten years old and her Pomeranian puppy are staring at my left arm and my right hand keeps filling out the form and I know I shouldn't but I say what she's been begging me to for the last half hour: It wasn't Wilbur. It was a woman. A girl,…

done

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...

Proceed here to read some of my work

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http://jrleyvas.net

First sonnet

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Shit, I guess I'm gonna hafta

Music

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Five micros

Arcana Magi Zero + Pure - c.6

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The cubs from every Clan shivered at his snarl. The Elder’s presence was overwhelming, and level of pressure pressing down upon them.

My Ten Chapter Memoir

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I am always impressed with your intelligence. I love watches. I'm not interested in time. I am well read so talking to myself can be fun.

The Monster's Other Face

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The yellowed and peeling posters of men and women with grotesque disfigurements under the slogan, “Know Your Criminals!” that peered down at him from the walls were a familiar sight. Everyone knew that people with faces like that were as monstrous as they looked…

happy hour

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I remember seeing five young losers standing outside this bar, smoking cigarettes in their baggy shorts and flip-flops, giving the occasional high-fives. They weren’t even eating their calzone, and I was getting upset about it. (I hadn’t eaten the whole

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 45

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

Birthday Money.

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4 sentences

Mothers

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There's a surprise for you!Why did she think I would have been pregnant? I hadn't seen her for ages, neither people she knew, so it wasn't my weight ...She opened the door, a sigh of relief on her face, thank God she thought ... She isn't.The surprise was we came to visit,…

More Visions of Astounding Beauty

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I remember saying, I’ll tell you what I think, if you tell me even one of your little secrets, okay? Whoa! A little too much information there, Wolfie, or Pharaoh, or whatever your name is now. I remember you with the same beard (just a different co

A Journey (on Foot) Through Hostile Lands

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Love comes and goes as it pleases. Plant lives matter you know. Isn't it so obvious? I'm sure you've noticed or felt like you've been here before. Maybe forever. Just ask any hand-held camera or open book. Well. How many times can we…

Waterstones and The Fridge

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I try to slot into order the sequence of events: the book deal that appeared and then winked away like a dying star, the white gloves and the brick through Waterstone's window; my novel lying in the shop front in a bed of glass.

Work of a Reader

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Then it gets worse—this reading of books—I go to the café and can only read a minimalist there, one crouton at a time.

February 7th, San Diego

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When I step barefoot on sand you're here again warm and soft and you let me sink in while you hold me up and make my legs like running drunk in a dream; away from all the nice things everyone said about you. And it seems like you're right here…

Layover

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The concourse had become his second home, he knew it that well. His fellow passengers were the houseguests he couldn't get rid of, the workers at the restaurants and gift shops a personal…

The Fourth Prague Defenestration: 9

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The Third Defenestration happened during the Soviet era, by the apparatchiks. The only thing that saved the people from certain death after being thrown out of the window of the Prague Castle, was an enormous pile of horse shit below, or haufen mist, as t

Animal Crush

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two pairs of arms and legs

In Between (edit)

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Behind me are two doors. Each opens onto a room which is more event than space.

The Mother Kidnappers

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We kidnap mothers of all sorts: old mothers, single mothers, young mothers (rarely), but we never do it for ransom. As a society we are adamantly opposed to the use of violence. Our mission is to remove mothers from environments they are not appreciated in, whether by their…

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.

I never.

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contemplatedshredding lettersfrom mybelated betterscauterizingsevered tethershorizoningmy ruffled feathers