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Walking My Lobster Back Home

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Gee but it’s great after being out late, Walking my lobster back home. There’s little risk that she’ll turn into bisque, Walking my lobster back home.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 50

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Ben did not respond, but sat staring lizard-eyed at the shattered remains of his glorious musical instrument.

A Matter Of Convenience

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Every retailer within my five mile containment zone is consumed with my convenience. It is incredibly comforting, this suburban fixation with access, proximity, speed, and ubiquity. If Marx were hanging out in American subdivisions today, he would likely

LYCEUM IN RUINS

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Weeds, schist, an Artesian well: élan in a heavenly forge. Sniffling goats, a mossy cairn. A portal divides the void. There is a human hand here below the crumbling parapet. The crotch of time A bridge between…

justice in obverse and reverse

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seriously: let defendants choose their coin, / execute their own calls, make their own coin flips― / attentive referee, no need for a court.

First sonnet

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Shit, I guess I'm gonna hafta

When You Love Someone

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you set the world in motion. When you lovesomeone you reset everything to glow. When you love someone you forgive the world. Everything is possible. When you love someone it is time to go on home. When you love someone you're reborn as someone else…

the plight continues

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but at least I wasn't drinking as much anymore.

sing your swan song

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They had to dress normal, my other boyfriends, be beardless, hairless, everything torn away, plucked, shorn smooth, because it elicited moisture on the tongue (when I was with you.) But I grew bored as the day before I first saw you.

White Treasure

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one man's trash

The Museum of Inner Light

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On the way to The Museum of Inner Light Expect delays Expect bumps in the road Expect potholes and such Expect a murder of crows Rolling acorns over the rooftops But what I want to know is who Who eats a butterfly On the way to

Ode to a Shopping Mall

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In 1609 Ben Jonson was hired to write a work in celebration of the opening of a new shopping mall.

beginning

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time lost in darkness

I am the Ship

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I'm the vessel that'll sniff out the wharf's of old,they call me bold for bounding seas,they whispers rumors of my unstable ease,what's a life without vanishing into the falling pink fold,Ululating tides spray brisk bounties of water on board,squabs with new wings…

Mike's Confession in the Basement to Being Allergic to Balls

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He arched an eyebrow.  He was "thinking" — a tricky thing to do, when you never read, even the newspaper.

At your service

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A horn blared behind him. Dan put his Corrola into drive, and began inching forward. Something colorful passed on his left and abruptly pulled in front of him. He slammed the brakes, nearly ramming into a bubblegum pink three-wheeled motorcycle command

it’s possible that i’ve given this some thought

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“Our legs are touching. Our legs. Touching. The light from the screen illuminates your eyes. Off and on. Even in night scenes. Maybe it dances in the eyes of other people there too. But I doubt it. Not like…

Night Worlds and the Tropical Hope Bird

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In the nights there was a sense of surrounding trouble, a trouble that had no name, but waited there and sometimes it seemed to whisper strange thoughts from the curtains and other times it waited in silence by the closets and corners. It never quite…

Chills On My Opposite Hip

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You gave me chills on my opposite hip whenever you touched me from behind, when we spooned under the rough woolen blanket in your basement. Whenever your essence touched my life like that. Just like when you said, “You came, that’s all.” That’s all? T

Bob the Builder

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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.

Sunday Morning Series- One: What I Learned in Sunday School

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I learned He was a Schmuck when, on/ the mountaintop, with Abraham,/ I waited on His call: one Isaac, neat.

79 AD

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No CNN to sing obliteration,/ only Pliny the Younger/ to scratch what fell

Villon, Stop Following Me Around!

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Villon, get the hell outta here!

mythical son

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I would have given your son to you. I would have had him in a heartbeat. And I would have showed him your inner beauty, even though you were absent. I would have hidden nothing from his nature. I would have given him everything and anything he needed, s

How Lost Can We Get?

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“Your family, that family is crazy, everyone of them hush hush, tweet tweet, a little screw loose – or a bird, what kind of bird they got there?”

Still

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I wanted only to be still, to become a rustle for a moment of papery fall leaves sighing past one another on their way to the funeral pyre in the front lawn, sweetly fragrant with the scent of death and inevitable decline, fearless in their annihilation, incandescent…

Like the Goats

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putting our bones together

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I can still see us sitting, somewhere (was it in a café?) imagining what it would be like if our mutual faces blended into the future (the waiters posing as in a Manet painting.) Putting our bones together, our broad features, Bohemia and Sweden. Yo

Midnight in Arizona

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I am in a war against the literal. I have sewn these words together to make a stand of birch. I wander the earth gathering moon shadows and swords. Kerosene dots punctuate the Dakota night. An apparition of words hops through a calculus problem and falls into a…

Basic Principles of Physical Space

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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