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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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Twig arms,
Send me back then back again.
The skeleton of our home
Lives above the town
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He dreams again of ocean devoid of shore
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A raininess envelops you already in the womb. The water that began in the mouth a generation before you, away from any explanation, reason, or need for speech, and now seeks out the same dear lovable blood in you as those who came before you – these are
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Barry Gibb, the last remaining brother of the trio to make up the once popular disco band, the Bee Gees, comes out for his encore, to sing a cappella, “Stayin' Alive.”
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She lay down sideways on the couch with her large breasts spilled out toward my face, as I sat cross-legged on the floor, so that they were more or less right there in my face, and well, you pay attention when tits are hanging out in the open like that. S
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Tony's is just a hole in the wall since most people get their sandwiches to go. There's a skinny counter, which was last wiped down during the second Clinton administration, and three tiny tables crammed into a corner.
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I was at the doctor’s office
They had a poster of the Mona Lisa
and the caption underneath it read:
“Why is this woman smiling?”
Well, it wasn’t because she was over 50
and had yearly mammograms
It was because she was 20 something
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Part I I look down at the milk soaked, fabricated, Bits of synthetic nutrition and The feeling comes over me. I race down the highway in my gas guzzling, Smog belching, status symbol and still The feeling overtakes me. I look at my precious offspring, I see…
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" If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stomping on a human face--forever." 1984, George Orwell
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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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What a world I imagined! Lacking organized armies, resting at noontime under a canopy made gentle by passing, natural creatures with large warm eyes, set afire by the influence of constant lust and destruction. Turned to marble by love. Who wouldn’t wan
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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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Across the vacant vanished . . .
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Then I got another letter, but this time it was from my friend Andy, warning me that he’d seen Miller riding around with Lynda, driving her grandparent’s Dodge with Lynda sitting right up against his side, and his arm was around her.
I saw red. I went
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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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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.
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Sixteen hundred hens / suffocated / during the collection
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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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Everybody was out on the deck and you could feel the deck swaying a little with the weight of all the people. There was loud music inside but it was too hot and nobody was dancing and they were all out on the deck. Lisa was out there and either she would not…
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No matter how many times
flies land on butter
they will never become
butterflies
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The space they are in is years long.
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It was Christmas Eve. Time for the ghost to visit. Just one ghost in this story. The ghost of a Christmas past. Just one Christmas for just one ghost.He looked out the window. Under the distant streetlight the snow was falling. He turned on his porch light. …
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“So, vot you think?” Vladimir asked us. “You want to come see these paintings? This is once in lifetime chance. Not many left who know about these. And I know where they are.”
All the while he kept looking around to make sure nobody was eavesdroppin
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in clotted abattoirs where Sorley saw: / no animals shorn of their skins and flesh / could spy with envy the men killing them.
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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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I stayed by the idiot king in his box, never ranging far, never letting the box out of my sight.
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What we see is the aspiration of flesh to beauty
not the fact, which may be ugly. That the light pours
down on them, as they wait in the wings to go on
stage. The cool and warm pastels separating
on their flesh. Green and white above, warm red
a
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