1179 2 0
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1179 6 4
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a body lost in thought
stays hopelessly lost in thought
for as long as the latte lasts
and the coffee shop stays open
and the moms don’t gather with their baby carriages
and the bums don’t bum overly much
and the trust funders don’t lose too
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1179 2 1
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I dreamt my legs were stirring the air up behind your back, as you lay between my thighs. Stirring the air repetitively, like a sea anemone stirring the water to feed the soul, the hunger between the legs and arms, for new life.
Stirring up the salt
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1179 2 0
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“Hey, come on and sit down,” Jake motioned to her.
It was three in the morning and after way too many gins the last thing Melisa wanted to do on New Year’s Eve was to chat with her ex-boyfriend. In fact if she had known he was goin
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1179 4 2
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My dad was in a barber training school
where they cut off the tip of a bum's ear
and taped it back on with scotch tape
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1179 0 0
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Muslim factions are getting a helping hand to bridge the gap that has divided Shiites from Sunnis since Mohammed died--a new version of the Peace Corps that uses recreational metal detection to build friendship.
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1178 0 0
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Thus was Rent-a- Rat, Inc born. At first it was Rent-a-Rugrat, but we changed it so the Army wouldn’t be onto us. Our first headquarters was out of a damned tent on Red Square, but we would get the hell out of there as soon as we could muster the necessar
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1178 5 4
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1178 1 1
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“I don't want to talk about this right now.” “Oh you don't want to…
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1178 2 2
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like they are trying to not get noticed by fickle death. It clearly marks them in a targeted way. Very ironic. Here's the only message I want you to ever have from me : quick, scramble like a monkey with a stolen banana in your tiny hairy…
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1178 6 5
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That was the year I got my Daisy bee-bee gun for Christmas....
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1178 2 1
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Life is a beach, not an enormous ashtry.
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1177 4 4
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It’s always daylight there
My brother comes running down the sidewalk
holding out his arms and calling my name
He’s wearing suspenders. He’s gotten thinner
in heaven
He embraces me warmly
wanting us to be friends
I give up trying to resist
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1177 7 4
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with all these little battle worn pieces of history surrounding us all the time is that they don't really make up for the terrible news of just now. Those people showed us what they showed us. Good for them.We're the direct explosion of their…
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1177 1 0
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If luscious lips lusted for love lost, they wouldn't be mine.
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1177 11 4
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There is no need to worry about art. Art in its ideal forms stays safe. Real art resists being the object of attention. It directs your gaze, and it swings in you forever.
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1177 3 0
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The concrete guy’s truck is parked in front of your house. There’s nothing for him to be doing there except your wife.
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1177 4 2
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Friday night, a bar downtown, beneath the swirling dots of disco lights, seated at a table by the door, I come across a Cheerleader from my high school days, having a Martini with the Quarterback she married. Even in forgiving light, …
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1177 13 6
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A murder of bunnies
nibble the St. Augustine,
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1176 12 9
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Who does that besides Kafka,
Arreola, and Steven Wright?
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1176 0 0
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What happens when you accidentally run into your lover's daughter on a plane.
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1176 0 0
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Oh Captain, Good Captain I went where you asked of me But now I'm back home And things are so clear to me The liquors been drained So my eyes have dried finally I'm seeking her out So her voice can stop haunting me When I see his face I'll…
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1176 3 2
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Soon you too will lie down with the sleep of rain, telling them a thing or two, grown old by having lived through your youth, that is all. Lying from the side of your mouth so often that you take up lying on your side, to try getting an eyeful of the of
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1176 6 3
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Spring break that year, (1963) I spent nearly every minute with Lynda. Her taste for sex was unquenchable once we’d gotten started. We did it in every position possible. The sitting position in the front seat of the car, which my brother Herb had to expla
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1176 1 1
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The funk of wet wool, stinky feet, reeking armpits, stale beer and fried food created a bohemian fetor.
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1175 3 2
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In the sad suburban subdivision
with its cul-de-sacs and broken curbs
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1175 2 2
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My name is Jacob Ellis. I was thinking about school and all those years and years and how they go eventually away but always remain somewhere in the mind as if imprinted on an akashic record. I was dizzy there, dizzy with dread and always on the verge of falling.…
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1175 4 0
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People speak of wordsmiths, as if they hammer text into shape; smelting down clunky prose, recasting from white-hot ink.
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1175 0 0
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“Elaine, what's that bee doing?”, asked Jonathan as he slid his reading glasses down and turned his attention from the morning paper to a bee that had landed on the his Nesbitt's Lime soda bottle. The bottle sat on the small, hand-made table in their back…
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1175 3 3
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“Hey! You can’t be
whistling on Greyhound,”
the bus driver said,
looking up
in the rearview mirror.
|