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Floozy Walks Into a Bar
Toting a handbag the size of a small suitcase
Because you never know
Floozy Walks Into a Bar
Dragging her reputation behind her
And everyone looks behind her too
Floozy Walks Into a Bar
To test the temperature of
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"We improvised to show our Spanish compadres that we meant them no disrespect, and the running of the cats was born."
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For some employees the job was simply a job, another day towards another paycheque towards another Friday night spent at the bar wondering just exactly when life decided to start with the kidney punches.
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Jess threw her books on the bed then grabbed a notebook from a shelf and slammed it onto a writing table. It made a hard pop gunshot sound. Flinging open the book, a page tore. Her diaries were named Annabelle. It was with a blue felt tip pen that she wrote: …
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no, you said.
like how the moon strangles with the side we can't see.
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It had all been for the children, hadn´t it?
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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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Wheels are spinning
On the country roads tonight
I’m driving all alone
No one else in sight
And the wind’s in my hair
And I don’t care
Yeah, the wind’s in my hair
And I don’t care
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It was a summer full of rage and discontent. The air had a new taste to it, reminiscent of the tang of battery acid.
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Aleister Crowley walks in and all of a sudden the bar's filled with angels and demons and pagan things. Wood nymphs and stuff like that. Wittgenstein, to his credit, keeps cool. He just stands over there next to the dart machine, pointing at things and naming them. Like…
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This is no age for love; this is a time for discovery. So no time for me to sit around my candle is slowly burning, while wind combs my hair. If this is what loves comes to then I predict in the eventuality of me being an old woman by the sea living with her friend, the…
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Below them, the clag shears open in irregular patches, the lights of Seattle resolving themselves through the thinning overcast then vanishing again by turns.
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My chin is half-eaten. My chest is gone. There is a rhythm to how each flame licks me. Like how you used to in the mornings before work. Before the coffee. Before the toaster. Before a rose clenched between your teeth and dancing.
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Do you know if you were actually speaking to me there?
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The empty faces in the crowd all mumbled...
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I invented a game called Church & State
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Dust and blood and disgust
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She has almost-black eyes and auburn hair and round brown nipples that are always taut – as though in anticipation. I don’t know what color auburn is. I just know that’s the word that comes to mind when I look at her hair.
She calls herself Mama Legb
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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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Why is this woman smiling?
Because she’s the Real Mona Lisa,
that’s why
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But then there were car windows
bashed out on both sides
Glass on the ground
like Kristallnacht
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On the parking lot of the bar, two in the afternoonYou notice the battered car, dented up body of a Ford escort,No hubcaps, plastic in two of windows,It yells a story to youA familiar storyHead into the bar2 O' clock in the afternoonIt's a nice, sunny, warm Saturday…
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in making your sad blown apart hearts rise up and squeeze out the kindness juices ever so sweetly anymore. Tried that. Didn't work out too well, not for me, wasn't a BIG time of waste, but did eat up some important wee…
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About four in the afternoon
a pigeon began admiring itself
in the shiny panel of a car door
until another pigeon came along
and it quit acting foolish.
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I look at her
really look
we both know her time is fading
"I'm just sad that you won't be there."
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The canvas bag lay crumpled and moaning in the middle of the room as Mister and Miss Marital Bliss contemplated what to do to it next. Spots of deep crimson blossomed like spring flowers all over the white sack and a large pool had gathered underneath. Rivulets of blood…
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I killed it.
Didn't even relocate it back to its outdoor home, as I had work to do.
This is being human.
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