1061 2 0
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I am like a spice in wind, warm and gentle on the face, a reminder of your youth, tried and true. Lick the trapped silk from my soul, is all I am saying, with your high language. Get the core out of me and turn it under your tongue. Why shouldn't the egg
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1061 2 1
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What the fuck is that smell? Puke? Pine-Sol? Oh shit!Back seat of a cop car.Again?What is it this time?“Excuse me, officer? Where the fuck are my clothes?”
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1061 0 0
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I’ll give you a pair of grey cement pumps
then into the river, your body I’ll dump.
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1061 0 0
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We entertained each other and stuck our fingers in each others’ cakes and pies and pulled them out licking them while looking at each other. I was light with youth in a white summer dress, swinging my shoe as it dangled off the tip of my toes, rubbing m
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1061 1 1
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The lock came off easy—they only screwed a hinged hasp on the outside—it took a hard shove to get past a chair barricading the door. As I pushed my way in I heard a screeching crash. Lucky nobody was around. It was my first time bidding on a sheriff's sale…
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1061 0 0
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While laying in his hospital bed recovering from a minor heart attack, Professor Martin Hellman reads details of an ancient book he has been given for translation--Biblos Melas, or, the "Black Book." Excerpted from the forthcoming novel "Minion Web."
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1061 0 0
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His throat had turned red after a few days of singing, and when he looked in the mirror he saw little sacs of white pus, like pimples, in the back of his mouth. “You got to pace yourself,” the big black woman who sang at the other beer garden told him.
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1061 1 0
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Alysia saw her reflection in Suzaku’s eyes. There was an empty face looking back.
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1060 13 8
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bones and shuttered windows
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1060 10 6
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Mothers and sons and war, an old story...
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1060 1 0
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“You got a cigarette, man?” “Hey, mister, you got a cigarette?” “You got a cigarette, mister?” “Hey, mister, you listening to me? You got any spare change?” The voice was coming from the…
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1060 3 3
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"I don’t know what to do. I need to catch the 11:30 train, but what is the difference between doing it today or tomorrow?"
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1060 6 3
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You don't deserve this poem and I don't deserve to write it. Whatever time we have left is way better spent sitting in a sunny garden with a good interesting book and with a beautiful golden delicious apple to bite into. But…
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1060 0 0
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Jim twisted the skinny trunk of his body in a fast, violent jerk just as the cop grabbed the buckle of his left Harley Davidson boot. When the boot flopped off, Jim found himself sitting upright, ready to jump up and run. But then he felt the baton lock down on his…
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1060 6 5
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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.
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1060 4 2
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And now for a word from
Hitler’s Younger Brother, the Mohel
Well, half brother really
He was always such an embarrassment to the Hitler family
Always climbing the infinite tree of hope
Against the permanent limb of gravity
No gratitude or all
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1060 4 2
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You don't see the bruises ... you can't foresee the pain. It's intense, so deep and yet so volatile, in vain. He slapped my head once more while he uttered for the millionth time the same old words again: "You're a loser and you'll never win. I hate for you to be my…
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1059 0 0
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1059 3 1
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The past follows, battered, bruised, always behind
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1059 0 0
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He lay on a wooden pallet, which he had placed inside a cardboard box that might have once held a refrigerator. Except the box was labeled “Robotic Endoscopic Surgery System.” His head was propped on a gym bag that contained all his possessions. Outside, it…
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1059 12 6
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1059 11 10
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It was a cruel question, coming on breath that stank of the grave.
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1059 0 0
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The apple tree is pretty and hangs On it's limbsFull pictures Like the executioner songover the head of a bladeAt the end of a rainbow waiting for a cold cloud To blow away a daffodil And leave porcelain tea cups at the end of a dull dayLike doilies waiting to be ripped…
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1059 1 1
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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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1059 4 1
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I guess it was a foregone conclusion that you would be gone at the end of the year. A foregone conclusion that you wouldn’t be coming back, and that after you began writing letters to Sharon saying what you would do to her when you did come back in th
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1059 5 2
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1059 10 9
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Most of the boys I pretended to marry thought my classroom seductions were funny, but there is a chance that one of the boys turned violent against me.
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1059 3 1
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If you have writer’s block, it may be because your childhood wasn’t unhappy enough, but there’s nothing you can do about that now, is there?
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1059 14 15
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the making by taking away
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1059 9 7
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The summer I was eleven years old....
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