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I Want a Lover, Not a Saint

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Her tits were perfect But came with a white picket fence Around them

Writing Poems

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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…

A Vignette on Fathers

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On 3rd when you looked at your 389th happy New Year greeting, you autotyped “same to you”. No one on whatsapp knew. At week 17 of IVF therapy when you and your new bride could do no more; doctor Mehdi said neither could he. At 5 minutes left, you mi

I Take Out The Garbage

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I Take Out The Garbage

Tics

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The damp suspended/ in the air/ in a faint fog/ discourages coagulation.

the custodial cats of the fulcrum of memory + three

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“the calendar of my future was in there!”/ yes: all tomorrows belong to the dead cats,/ their decisions relinquish one day per day.

Three Eights

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He fingered his remaining chips and the usual nervousness tingled at his spine.

I'm a Bohemian-American

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My first and so far only visit to my homeland of Prague was first described to me by a tourist guidebook, which laid out many of the fundamentals one must follow while travelling there. It was pointed out, for instance, that we would be “unlikely to encou

The Problem With Oils

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If you were a painter, and I a poet, we could have conversations about Picasso and Bukowski, and how neither one took a sober breath.

Feb 4

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Walking with one giant dog and one tiny one, I didn’t feel at home, but I felt something better.

The Roses of Gettysburg

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Mothers and sons and war, an old story...

Harry

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in a complete rage he lifted his entire golf bag full of clubs over his head and threw them into the creek.

Marshmallow

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The razor finds hair, and cuts, eats away at the layers of hair I've built up since 16. Built up these layers of hair. Built up layers of hair. Big ears. Big layers of big hair to cover up big ears. First thing I got was this haircut. Haircut the moment I got in here.…

I will miss you

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I will miss you, sure, let it be known. The memory, and the dream, both. That familiar smell of Old Spice when someone wearing it comes near. And the smell of Coppertone Suntan Lotion on the beaches of our youth in Chicago. And the pressure of your fing

nothing special on a night in february

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as i stepped out to cross west 163rd, the grey, icy sludge in the road looked almost like ballpark mustard illuminated by the streetlights, and it felt like walking through a recently emptied movie theater.

Spinneret

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It's true. I like to walk on the ceiling. But please. Don't hold it against me. The ceiling is cold. Nobody lives there. Just a spider. A curious arachnid. She lets herself down sometimes. If I'm on the bed, trying to sleep, staring at the ceiling, watching her…

The Year in Blogging: More Than Just Sonny Tufts

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1,919 followers in 105 countries come to this site every day looking for breaking news on the number of white kittens promoters are required to provide Mariah Carey at each concert.

At Schwartz's

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Sometimes he made a corny joke and smiled. The gold in his tooth glowed like sunshine. He was the most important man in my life.

Take Abe To Mass

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Near Christmas in Chicago they used to have these pictures of a five dollar bill on billboards all around the city, with the caption: Take Abe to Mass. On the front steps before going into the church, we encountered a ver

Another Land

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In another land...

Eating Crow

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I stabbed a man at the Blue-Buick Bar and Grill. This may not be shocking news, all things considered. The man I stabbed didn't think it was all that shocking, even while it was happening. I'd had a lot of those energy drinks -- six or seven -- even before I'd puked…

yesterday/today

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bones and shuttered windows

Ode to BX442

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Your distance from me is fathomable but just barely— 10.7 billion lightyears—about as far as anything possibly could be. Far from the street where my apartment is, from joy or regret or any notion of chicken salad. My friends at Wikipedia tell me…

It’s Real TV, Uncle Remus

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We’re lost in a brambly aberration, thorny tangles of a wacky nation.

Five Stories From a Funeral

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1. Premonition “He had a premonition,” Agnes, the widow, said. “He said he was going to die.” “Ma,” Gregg said, “he always said he was going to die. He was the Fred Sanford of Central Ave.” “But this time it came…

Synthetic Terror

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When I wake up, I am almost drowning in a sea of styrofoam.

Pleasure Your Woman the Papal Appliance Way

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It shows how ignorant your typical writer for a men's magazine read primarily by teenage boys can be. You must treat every woman as if she is a customer at a major appliance store.

Red

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There's a boarded up Chevron a few blocks down the street from where I used to live. I still pass it every now and again as I'm going to and from jobs. When I lived in the area, which was about three years ago, there was this one red-headed female gas jockey that seemed to…

Bumpy Ride Ahead As Jet-Lagged Hamsters Try Viagra

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Researchers have successfully used Viagra, the male erectile dysfunction drug, to treat jet lag in hamsters. Reuters

The Hot Earth

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don’t let them take away our youth, even if we have to beat the paint out of birds the way we did when we were young. I knew we could do anything, so let’s go back into that world and describe the new dawn all over again, even if we have to use the frozen