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The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

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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

Slightly Broken Sonnet

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It's late it's early love youfuck me the difference isin the garage boxes sitbehind me in the trunklike passengers beside melike pedestrians in frontof me I choose our directionwhat stays what comes whatis what and how did I end upin the garage in the first placein the…

Counting the Stars

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Everybody's trying to just not get killed. Cut flowers. It's an illusion. The grand smell of our deathly beauty. They were so afraid of the ghost dance once upon a burning time that they decided on murder to get it to stop. Those were the days. That's…

Puppet ABC - 1

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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

the return of Ulysses

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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

The Fourth Prague Defenestration: Prologue

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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 enc

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

The Small of Her Back

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The small of her back, where the downy hair stands upright like wheat in the summer light.

Grateful

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What I had liked about Harvard before it showed itself in psychocareerist TV appearances and lid-down disingenuous printed psychotopical drills for maintaining crass privilege was the description online of its linguistics department.

I Want a Lover, Not a Saint

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

Resist or don't

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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

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.

gravelortian part 20

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Baby who battles with devils

Late July

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The cicadas struck their soundsTheir ribs made a clicking drumThe sound was formed over buckling ribsvibrations sounds like a maracas bangle beatingShe sat up in a lounge chair trying to sleepThe tiny ants she found tickling her armThey crawled from some hole…

A Cormorant on Fort Point Channel

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I walk past World Shaving Headquarters, he surfaces again down where I turn to return to Summer Street and work, the daily bread and all that.

The Lies You Tell Yourself

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I am skinniest in the morning. My belly forgets the previous day’s sins, and I wake up looking taut like a model. Then it starts.

My Brief Career as Sloganeer for HAP

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I needed a job. They needed a writer without humanistic moral qualms to create slogans for the Human Annihilation Project

Guy Who's in Love With Modern Notions of Love and a Good Thing Happens to Him After a Bad Thing

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Vince did a dance of love and courtship around the Camaro moving crab-like around it with his arms hung low, raising them only to lower his sunglasses.

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…

The Soup You're Served

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He said hopping trains don't get you out the pot, it only gets you to the other side. But whatever soup you're swimming in, you'll still be swimming in it.

Contortionist

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a poem that unwrapped itself so casually I tucked it under my tongue, just to make sure

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…

Cocktail Hour

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The bullet went past his right ear and a little star appeared, twinkling in the mirror, a small hole in its middle, before the boom of the shot filled up the bar. He put his straight up Grey Goose martini down on the bar hard enough so th

The Pit and Philip Guston

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Above the chasm of life burn two fires at either side of the framed painting that stands on the pink and red plain. And inside the painting itself an orange rain falls, accumulating in a sea of red. Rocks can’t stand their small shadows anymore

He Dreams of a Small Boat at Sea

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He dreams again of ocean devoid of shore

Wet Moses Cement

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If you’re trying to carve wise sayings for eternity to read in a newly poured sidewalk you don’t want to be struggling for meaning while the cement is wet.

Mistaken

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Buzz.

Relationship Status

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I would use your towel,

Inaction (or a disease of consciousness)

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“... More weighty than wisdom or wealth is a little folly" (Ecclesiastes)

Hunters

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At fifteen...