1075 5 4
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In an area of high winds
and strong convictions, I have
lived among the ever-changing crowd
that is always the same.
I must have died overnight,
and now my wings are
flapping in my own face.
I used to be an owl,
a night owl, to be sure
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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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1074 4 2
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From 'Excelsior' (fifth section) - a poem in 9 parts. So this is what begins at thirty? Thirty-five, And waiting. Those make love with water mildly, they That sink and skim the tide's meridian fingers: Brown swans that bob the blue orb's plumbing sheer. So this has…
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The little butterfly struggled against the wind. As little butterflies sometimes do. Tossed and turned around by relentless, uncaring gusts. The little butterfly would make progress, but then be pushed back. Tantalizing close to where she was heading. A…
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1074 2 0
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Then you came home from your travels and stole her, your new queen, though she was ready. And raped my heart as you entered the new passage to heaven. And I cried out your name on the river, and swam in the warm waters behind you, naming your new name a
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1074 3 3
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You may want to know
who wrote the book of love, but
all I really want to know is who,
who sprayed the dinosaurs with graffiti?
Not some poser
Not some Svengali
Not some last minute
giraffe
Not someone from the all girl’s band
kn
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None of them knew the emptiness my bravado covered. I moved through life a pale shadow of a being. In the mornings I was afraid when I went into the bathroom to gaze into the mirror I would find no reflection staring back at me, that I had finally become
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1074 1 1
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“I come from a long line of Toad Kings,” Huckleberry said, “and we never back down from a bet.”Phyllis, a great white heron, lowered her long white neck so she could get a better look into her friend's golden eyes.“I just think you…
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I’m living at the Edge of Graffiti
And yet I still survive
Because I walked across the line
Separating me from the rest of mankind
You can see me out here
I’m in so much pain
All that’s written on my face
I think it’s pretty plain
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1074 1 0
|
I’m walking funny but only comedians notice.
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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…
|
1073 1 1
|
a poem that unwrapped itself so casually I tucked it under my tongue, just to make sure
|
1073 0 0
|
We went to the woods to escape the failures that suck out your breath.
|
1073 0 0
|
If the little buildings had hair the hair was as if sleeked back some and also flaxen from the sun. Men walked past there and of course women also all in the requisite wear of the world. We dashed felt pens on curb-sides writing our names in the world and way in behind…
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1073 3 3
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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.
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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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|
A hymn for her
when his head
cocks shameless.
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Wait for it. It's not the end of the world, it's the end of certain things. It's not that the sky is falling, it's that the coral reefs are dead or dying. I don't know how the ravaged trees have managed to survive this long with us breathing…
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1073 3 1
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He fingered his remaining chips and the usual nervousness tingled at his spine.
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The man who makes the noose
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|
...something is pulsing in the shovel against the window and its pompadour of snow.
|
1073 3 3
|
I am not
a Road Scholar,
ladies & gentlemen,
though I’ve been
On the Road
more than once.
Do not mistake me
for a bum.
I am not a hobo,
homeless or otherwise,
in this life
or any other,
I am not a bum,
I insist.
But I d
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Baby who battles with devils
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peripheral dreams fall out from the head / the body squirms then burrows abed: /
“have you had a good life? you now have less! / —led a hard life instead? you soon will be gone!”
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a distinct hardness that translates into solidity, and a lightness that translates into beauty, and I thought I’d find you there,
|
1072 0 0
|
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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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…
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1072 2 2
|
One night just as I dozed off I was awakened by a circular saw going right next to my head. The coke dealer was working on his deck. His hair was biblically long and he wore a pair of goggles as he worked on his patio utterly oblivious to my presence just
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Now your dreams are
headed for the Rhyme or Reason
Convention
where they try to convince you
you can do this
Trying to make sense of
everything
|