1050 1 0
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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.
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Forgetting fractures her body into a vast flower of fragments
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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,
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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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There’s Julie-she’s the cineaste–
Au courant woman with a past.
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1049 2 1
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Amir was a ghost, and he was terrible at it. No one had taught him how to be a ghost. There was no orientation, no welcome packet, no handbook. Ghosts started in limbo with only a name, and nothing else.
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no matter where we sit or how we stare— / all parades now march away to one day.
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Edwin was the last thing I bought. With his uneven eyes and curious leg stumps, he was a must-have. When I showed Edwin to my housemates he was hugged many times, and praised as though he was real. Knowing my housemates, Edwin may have saved some lives…
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1049 6 5
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I can walk among words, Scatter them like birds, to compose two thirds of a poem, when they settle on nearby wires, in an order inspiring wonder. What do they think, when I scatter them asunder. Bring them disarray, Shape them to a…
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made of meat and born to breed
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Who has the child’s foreskin
The mohel has removed?
Who took the bleeding piece of flesh
His human nature proved?
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1049 4 3
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Let's go now with those precisely marching shiny cloud band members, so eagerly clanging their golden sleeves togetherover there in the valley of new light, for instance. They can lift wholeoceans up, like baby children, for a seriesof smooches, all of…
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1049 15 5
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The trio stuffed their grilling equipment in a battered van and left for Dixieland Speedway at 4:30 am.
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1049 1 0
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1048 1 0
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She came out to Laguna Beach one time, and we saw each other at this party and she asked if I wanted to “ball,” as she put it. Yes, I said immediately, because I was famished and really wanted a lot of sex because I had just finished a three month project
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Everything is on Time’s menu
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1048 8 6
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One final herculean strain, if it didn’t kill him might get him at least to his knees.
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1048 4 2
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“... More weighty than wisdom or wealth is a little folly" (Ecclesiastes)
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1048 3 2
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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…
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1048 0 0
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Alexander, Macedonian Boy-King, / having arrived at conquered Corinth, said: / "I would like to meet that famous madman / this land of wisdom-loving fools has bred."
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1047 4 2
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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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Somewhere outside of the future I am seeing Weinberg, the duplicate failed mimeographed onto the front of ourselvescompromised composite grown from a codependent blastocyte talking to the boxes on the edge of tomorrow, collectiblecrystal lined folliclesharvested at the peak…
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1047 0 0
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I got a call from Fiona last night. She asked that I come down this evening, to meet at Penny's place. "It's an Intervention, Al," she said, which told me everything I needed to know about what the meeting would be about.
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1047 2 2
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Are there places that words cannot go? Consider words going where they were never intended to go.
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the continuous racket, a buzz saw trumpet
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she's bent over and reaching into the oven to pour fat over a chicken. I just want to tug those pants down and thrust.
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1047 0 0
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Rise, Awake and Sing“Your dead shall live, their corpses shall rise; awake and sing, you who lie in the dust”(Isaiah 26:19)A medieval town where nothing stands straight,where Kafka sat, slept, ate. Where timereads backwards on a Hebrew clock and a Golemwaits in…
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1047 2 1
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And then, one fateful day, the world ran out of ideas. The last one was gone, floating away like a balloon full of the helium we had already squandered.
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1046 6 3
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1046 0 0
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This is the keeper's pattern. Each time he continues his search, he reaches out through his gaze for an invisible line, wishing to touch it if only with his eyes. Each time he feels himself drawing near quiet panic sets in, eyes downcast until the threat
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