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Growing into a new mold, watching our friendships fall into deep deep holes.
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and even if you feel like you're all grown up, it's still okay...
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CALEBHe'd get up every day,don his clothes and tendto rote ablutions. He tried not to think too much.Because he knew what that would bring --the tethers he lost; failed causes,the last lover, who knew some things.Instead, he kept his eyes straight ahead,marked time,…
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“Can you imagine what we could have accomplished, if we would have just gotten all the fuckin out of the way?” says Doug Stanhope, one of my favorite comedians, and one of the most brilliant, harsh straight to point utterances, I've heard from anyoneWe…
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We bring words together and set them up on blind dates. Watch them build a history together, get married and fight together. Make offspring syllables cradled warm in cribs of punctuation. Phonemes squeezed into existence by two parenthesis. Words…
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Happy is a look we are trying to wear better
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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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From the parking lot to the stadiumdown town waiting for the crossinglightthere are a few others in jerseys but not manywe are too early for that.Desert gravel crunching scuffle of canvas shoeskicking granitehop along wobble steps and I turn to seewho's off the…
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The coffee cup was still full. Black hot steaming smoke signals climbed toward the ceiling, like blowing soot out of dirty bagpipe lungs. The mug exhaled constant and slow like the Fall, until room temperature crept from the handle around…
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...the room was filled
with a brightness
and a breeze,
making you think
you were up in
the clouds.
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They called him Hank. We piled in a car and drove up from Irvine to his little bungalow apartment on DeLongpre near Hollywood Blvd. for a collating party for this Mag he started with Neely called “Laugh Literary and Man the Humping Guns.” No shit, that wa
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We have been down here before
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I felt that love could
not be paid for or else could
never be paid for enough.
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She hears me, acknowledges me. She knows I’m bound each day, unable to make my voice heard. “It’s regrettable,” she mumbles...
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She slipspaper thinshe ripspaper thin
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(...) I know my eyes are shut and I’m on the kitchen floor but I see her and I’m not confused. (...)
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Sometimes we hurt ourselves, we scratch ourselves, we bleed — for a simple joy... All I wanted to do was to find the poplar again — the tree of my young arms, of my budding breasts. My fingers used to circle around its bold and vigorous waist, but in the…
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972 0 0
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"Come into my face." said Duras famously as she neared death. This is very beautiful. If one takes Duras to speak of something akin to the 'face' as given us by Levinas, and we may display this face here as something like an Husserlian universal…
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Love is music
timed in heartbeat
move to rhythms ages old
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Like the miserable sledgehammer I am, with no adjective in place to praise your moon, you are a hole well-worn into my favorite rock. I have only been able to reinvent this wronged language, in which being moved by…
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972 1 0
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She's a woman who travels often. Maybe for work. Maybe for mischief. She's a "free spirit" trapped by her desire for love. But she numbs it with the warmth of a new man's touch. She leaves herself reminders that often fail her or remain inconsistent. She wants to…
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972 2 2
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Either a ruckus needs to be raised
Or a ruckus needs to be caused
I began chewing the locks of love
Off the fences and the gates
I was so outraged
At the horrible academic trash
If they had found me doing this
They would have hauled me a
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And what is it I’m supposed to do
With all this unsolicited advice?
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I never thought that I would be
here
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It could be there is a little me, somewhere, truth be known. One time in Laguna Beach I slept with a girl I met at this café, the Jolly Roger, I think, when we went back to my apartment and had unprotected sex. She said she was on the pill, but you neve
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Thankfully I don't have to share my Jim Beam with the cat.
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The two boys walked the long dock to the edge of bay,like scrappy lobsters pointing toward the waves,"The cockroaches of the sea,"his father said,It was the old country"Only prisoners were fed lobster.They stayed in the dampholes."He thought the sea ebbed and flowed like a…
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We went to the woods to escape the failures that suck out your breath.
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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…
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