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She shifts in her armchair, shadowed beneath the dark pitched roof, gently replaces her chipped white china teacup in its saucer. It's started again. It's how they go, their whisperings, egging younger children to climb the steps to her attic apartment, a
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with binoculars
neighbor reads
screen text:
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no matter how many drunks I spoke to, no matter how many strangers I tried my new theories on, no matter how many of my, currently distant friends I out-witted and educated with my revelatory nuggets of wisdom, I still see no sign of impact on the evening
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“Well, of course I served in the CIA . . . everybody did, back then!” he says with a grin. “Two goddamn bloody well years . . . I was a regular Nayland Smith, I tell you. …
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i’ve started writing these things down
on blue-lined notebook paper
or really anything i can get
my tendonitis-ridden hands on.
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A cruel reminder of his irrelevance to the world of law, a world he had probably ruled for over 40 years.
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No one is going to find us. And even if they did it's just a play someone wrote with you in mind as the lead. No one is going to find us. I could have told you this but I didn't want to spoil your newfound fun. No one is going to find us. The funny…
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It was the absence of small sounds he felt most. The clink of a spoon against china, a floorboard’s distant creak, the swish of that old, broken-toothed comb through her hair. A thousand tiny sounds that had proved he wasn’t alone.
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it always takes too long to figure it out
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I know I was hungry. I was hungry for what you had to offer, your fast cars, your dad’s ski boat, your beautiful mouth and its pretty words, your Bohemian eyes and yes, for the joy you could give me between the legs.
But I was unprepared for the lif
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One morning she was out on her walk and happened to come near the creek. Amazed as she was by the landscape, she was unprepared for the creek to look dark. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, the trees budding and yet below, in the water, it seemed dar
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Deep in Stationcity they began to drum.
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“That's Governor Gauda to you, punk!” This is the line from my speech “Killing Dennis Gauda.” The speech lost the Tall Tales competition at the division level, but I was unfortunate to have a chance to do this speech for Dennis Gauda …
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In suburban Jeddah magnificent houses on every corner of the avenues are surrounded by high walls rising up from just inside the roadside curb to much beyond taller than a man.
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1125 1 0
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In the poetry section, no one talks except to say, "excuse me," or, "wow," or, "amazing," with the second 'a' stretched out like a blacktop highway. But mostly they say, "excuse me." and that's only because someone dressed in a corduroy jacket is …
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my stomach is empty, but it is my eyes that are hungry
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These were strange realizations, and each built upon the one before until I was completely mystified and unsettled in my life.
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“Are you comparing the communists with Hitler?”
“Are you telling me there is no comparison?"
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Thanks for the invitation, although you don't make the Undergraduate Verse Society Ice Cream Social and Poetry Slam sound very appealing.
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My friend and I were talking while having burritos (some days, it is as if all we ever eat are burritos, existentially speaking) and I was looking at the way he inserted that shaft of meat in his mouth and thought him prodigious for his technique
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Little scoundrel Name of leaf, No one knows He's a thief. The shadows stretch, The birds fly south, And summer's a word Of ash in the mouth When all of a sudden The colors are gone But for a red…
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The road to heaven is littered for miles with dead sinners, or more precisely, the sides of the roads are lined with crosses on which the sinners are nailed. It has always been so, since time started ticking for Civilized…
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“She's the year of the horse,” Metri said as he peeled his dirty head from the bed, his hair was as matted as a racoon tale. It was as wild as a wild animal and smelled like body odor with a hint of blood. He slid his scabbed hands up to his chest as if to…
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“You’re just like me,” she said, as dawn was breaking. “You like sex.”
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It seems like that is all I really knowThe narrow confines of my existenceThe sun rises and falls somewhere,And all living things, move, work struggle and fightCarrying a bucket of water, while the sunBangs the day's rhythm on my armsThere's a war going on, all the…
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Any God we could respect/
would listen, kind, to prayers,/
compassionate but resolute –
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With green and silent industry, the plants/
convert our shit to fiber, food and breath.
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I'm feeling almost better than you know A little bit better than the day before Waking up to a deafening scream Please, please don't hurt me no more Why do I feel like a lost dog? Staring outside the window pane How come I become dark? When the clouds begin to rain…
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