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He Dreams of a Small Boat at Sea

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He dreams again of ocean devoid of shore

Epicure

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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…

Born of Flight

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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…

The Problem With Oils

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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.

The Thank You Parade

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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…

Demons

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Michael had become quite accustomed to his morning routine. He woke at seven, made his coffee, and stepped onto the front porch with a steaming cup and a fresh cigarette. He sat there for ten minutes or so, watching the neighborhood prepare for their d

Do You Ever Really?

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The pavement was so hot, it burned the souls of my feet. I really thought they would blister, but they rarely did. I would try to walk on the grass, between driveways. Carrying that large bulky box. I would hear the the slap, slap, slap, of some of the other…

Crush

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I like you

Everyone... out

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The room is cold, like an icy bath. Enough to make Earl's testicles shrivel up in fear. He could hear the angry children outside act out a primeval play, where it sounded like bones were being slammed into rocks with clumsy small hands. The edge of the table…

sirenia sirenia

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He leans back in the desk chair in his home office. He clicks on “Inbox” in his Gmail. He spins around in his chair. He clicks on “Inbox” again. As he spins again, he realizes how silly it is to keep clicking “Inbox” when Gmail…

Celes' Most Important Question

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This was a word Celes had not ever heard before. "Ethics?" "Ethics is… Well, let me see how to put this." He put down his fork for a moment and thought before continuing. "Ethics is the study of the form of what is right and what is wrong."

There's Always A Tree Dying Somewhere

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Bonus included.

Featherweight

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As the torrent hit her, she felt her body slipping, sinking, and suddenly she didn’t know where the floor was in relation to her feet.

Zero Gravity

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Here is a blank space soft and white like paper extended indefinitely.

77 Words About Nothing (Sundays)

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Sunday nights weren't massive. They were Sunday mornings that remained.

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

Bum on a Stoop in Paris with a Bald Head in the Rain

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Bum on a Parisian stoop begging with his big Jackson Pollack bare head in the rain The water running in streaks all over his brain Reminding him of a painting He once thought of Keep going, you’re coming back again. Get out of the car wrec

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

Spiritual Awareness

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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.

Lavender Blur

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Donna and I get out of the car...

Bruegel days, nights by Bosch

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no matter where we sit or how we stare— / all parades now march away to one day.

No More Ideas

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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.

Cocktail Pianist

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It seems the law of gravity will exert its influence even in such mundane matters as the afternoon rush hour.

Reciting Verse on the Toilet

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He is the kind of boy that is so handsome / you already expect there is something wrong with him

8 zero+1 scarring digits tic toc glossie phanein and coy constellations or blood by boards avadhoota where no divine mthrs stay

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I am seven and it is in one of those spring stretches where temperatures proceed enough to make walking acceptable if not amicable. Pop cans and chip bags once boasting glossy surfaces and daring hues now faded to match asphalt fields. Other bits of things…

Confessions of a Latter-Day Computerholic

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Boy, it is weird out there, talking to real people!

A Start

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I don’t like telling stories. I’m far too honest and give far too many things away.

3 Seconds Till Uncertainty

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First they Dust off the bottom of the sky But then the clock gets stuck At 3 seconds till uncertainty Then they Dye the sunset clouds To make them more Transparent So as not to confuse The human mind With the stuff of uncommon Nostalgia

a little passion among them

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A reddening? A certain swelling, a little passion among them, is there? What lips would not have given what they could, to speak more boldly, more fondly of you now? But now the country is fastened to arrogance, welded to it in an evil way, wanton with violent…

vast dance of the darling soul

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Was it only for the vast dance of the darling soul, that you were born? Not to give up your genetics? Made for the use of the future, were you? I should have known. I heard the wind that swirled within you, even then, when we were so young. You were