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“Hello. How are you?” “Me? I'm fine actually. Just sitting here in this little coffee shop. Sipping my coffee. I like it black, did you know that?” “Like your men?” ‘Excuse me?” “It's a joke… from…
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fade away
glorious, golden
delicious
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In September she had been wise.
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It was Phil Collins on MTV, “In the Air Tonight,” that helped cement it for me. It was the beginning of the end of my marriage. Well, not exactly the true beginning of the end. You would have to go pretty far back, honestly, to find the true root of it
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I remember so many things … do you remember who I am yet? I attached pictures to jog your memory, including the house on Euclid where I lived.
That’s my high school graduation photo. I was wearing my hair short that year, and blonde and natural,
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Morning. A hot bright sun shines down on the cool dark depths of the deep blue sea.
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As soon as he neared his neighborhood newsstand, handed over the exact change and had The New York Times in his hand, Irving switched from feeling he had no choices, to feeling he had a future.
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With nipples like those, rose-colored, we could have fed a nation!
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I'm panicking trying to think of the next line in this poem
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I don't belong. I don't feel privy to grown up conversations, yet I can't relate to teenage expectations. I'm floating on the walkways in another dimension of time. Everybody looks like ghosts functioning in robotic ways. I feel an electric eye following me in my…
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I have sat aside and entertained the coveted feelings of what was not in my hands. Only briefly, a moment shared of hidden secrets and joy. But of and between us, I cannot say that this moment is a considerable spur-still I desire…
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[T]he Thwaites Glacier . . . still exists as of August 2021, though probably with at least five hundred and twenty fewer gigatons of ice mass than in August 2011.
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There is only me and the crooked pavement that leads to your dim tower.
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Randall had created Raoul to enjoy the freedom of being another person, but this became his second life crisis.
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The brown grackle chirps/
as she chomps a plump cricket-/
melodious meal.
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artifacts gone obsolete / miscegenating in suspension
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I was sitting in Prague
having breakfast on 9/11
near the Astronomical Clock
while the world was bombing ISIS
the sons of ex-Nazis
sitting at a table nearby
and old apparatchiks
leisurely eating sausages
while the world took a moment
to
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We once saw giants in the clouds and in/
connected points of stars, and named/
them, gods. We placed them in their high-halled villas,/
on the mountaintop, to game and frolic
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We have been down here before
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The smell of Coppertone Suntan Lotion always brings back memories of the beach. I remember you rubbing it on my stomach and you kept moving lower and lower. I had on a bikini bottom (very daring) and you rubbed your finger all along the rim of it just a
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Light seen as sunlight through a Japanese shade
Red through many of their mouths, and often their hair
but also spots of a duller red on the back of this
gentleman's coat and the back of his head
The woman stares at him without smiling
from thre
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(From Postcards fom a Railway Station (final poem)) No lights shine out tonight high hung in heaven: And the constellations like a dead man fall. No sight of polar eyes, whose sons are seven, And I stand unthinking and beyond it all I own it all a…
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I come here, to this very spot for a reason. Imagine — the illusion of knowing what is and is not. The contentment drops taste — one could suppose — like that.
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- Of or relating to dreams
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The sky was painfully blue that day. So bright, so cheerful that attempting to look at it, to probe its depths would cause one's eyes to tear up. There was not a cloud in sight, just miles and miles of blue as far as the eye…
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I move, press my mouth to her ribs and trace
a line between her breasts with one, sticky
fingertip.
She
closes
deep
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Hold my heart the child in your arms
The roses of April blooming,
I bend down before you cracked and broke
Spilled out like albumin.
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This was supposed to be a love letter written by a content writer, then it just got weird.
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