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Schadenfreude

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It's 50/50 that you'll ever pad your knee enough to ever kneel on it. Your back hurts, the Orthapedist labels it arthritis. I think that means we're getting old, so I crawl up the tower of your body as I'm a little younger, more sprightly. You're a

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.

Path of Least Resistance

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I followed the car-path tendrils/ further and further north.

Beauty Fell Through the Roof

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Yet tenderness resided here among the canvases, the tubes of paint, brushes, and candle wax; the splatters of discarded ideas. We made love the way people said prayers

A Journal of the Plague Year, Day 193

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More thoughts on denial...

Future Children As Rocks

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I feel like I should tell you things about strength.

More L.A. Stories from the Land of One Night Stands, #3

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and lie down naked in my bed on her back, with her hands frozen at her sides like a deflowered virgin in the Gauguin painting “The Loss of Virginity,” almost breastless, and wait for me to lick her sopping until she almost came, but she could never quite

hot weather brings out the sexual

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The blond hair lifts slightly on the skin of my arms. In my mind I am nodding, listening to you in your bedroom as you read to me from your poems. The veins along my arms standing up interestingly. I probably have small breasts, yes. I look up, searchin

Meet Robert Grady

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Robert had chopped his hair and grown a soul patch since I'd last seen him. He was tanned, the hair on the top of his head was spiked, and some gray specks were creeping in on the hair on the side of his head. Had…

Gertrude

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When we were young and small we played in the orchard. Mom made apple pies and fried apples, caramel apples and apple sauce, apple cider. Grandma’s apple butter recipe.

the sweet lunar springs

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Check the sweet lunar springs that we are still bathing in. The swelling in the genitals there. Check to make sure we are ripe, and in season. It’s our way of being willing, strong under the sweet icy waters, with that fertility that is derived from you

The Perfect Crime

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I had committed the perfect crime, and I had left nothing to chance; my best strategy was chancing nothing. Prudence and planning were my only allies, and these are the best allies of success. Usually.

Mar–a-Lago

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A petition submitted to the Planning Department of Palm Beach Florida requests a zoning variance applied to Mar — a — Lago. Studies, backed by research, have defined Mar-a- Lago, an ideal location for shelter and protection for immigrants, fleeing from…

Amma

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God love him, she used to say. you never noticed it much at the time because it is just something like a habit. a benevolent habit. around through the years and decades she went like that. God love him, she used to say, if she saw someone resting peacefully, of if…

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.

On Tuesday

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When they talk, they put their hands like a cup around their mouth

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…

A Day in the Life of a Nutcracker Ticket Scalper

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Talk about the Nutcracker–my nuts are cracking from the cold cause it’s freezin’ out here! But a guy’s gotta make a buck, and scalpin’ ballet tickets in sub-zero weather pays the bills.

an exhibit of nature

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I’ll widen a wing out of myself, if you want. I’ll wash out the more volatile salts of man’s innate salt. I’ll awaken the milky sense the night sky’s made of, under Van Gogh’s heaven. Use the same salt wind sailing over all origin, the rim of the cup an

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

the inflammation of a god for the world

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How I managed to find you, out of all the meaningless places on earth, in a place like Villa Park, among cornfields yet! And to have spent with you an age, a lifetime of nights, to empty out a little our emptiness. And all the hand can conceal, whether

are you a life force?

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are you afraid sometimes, in the night, in the wind as it beats down your maelstrom thoughts?

youre wrong // im right (curiosity)

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"Stop it! Don't fucking touch me! I fucking hate you! I'll call the cops! I'll never forgive you for this!"

is it a visible, or invisible thread?

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In another dream I am you and I am giving birth and the pages you have written are flying out of me one after another and appearing like speckled moths near the ceiling of your bedroom, and they have my eyes and some of them have yours. A soft singi

Hospital, or Depression III

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Yes sir, I confess there have been timeswhen I did not care how young the earth isor take pride in how she sprang back to greenregardless of how hard the snow fought.There have been times, yes, when I lacked the willto notice such things and knew that belowthe water's…

The Joint is Out of Time: A Journal of the Plague Year, Day 108

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History in the unmaking.

3.8 in Chicago

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A 3.8 magnatude earthquake ravages Chicago suburbs.

Belonging

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Vanessa wasn't going to get another choice in this game. This was her only chance to be a part of the Ian-crowd. All she had to do was choose correctly from the three cards sitting between her and the group facing her. In the cold and dimly-lit room, Vanessa stared intently…

Sonnet II

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When gratitude on lovers' lips rings false/ As flattery by courtly sycophants,/ Take care to well distinguish gold from dross/ So as to gild gladder remembrances.

Is That a Floating Postcard over There in your Shirt Pocket, or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

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We came wind-milling together ,up and over the blue and yellow stone bluffs, like a couple of empty yet racing nowhere fast plastic grocery bags, catching onto everything and anything in our way, and desperately trying to get free again,…