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1,919 followers in 105 countries come to this site every day looking for breaking news on the number of white kittens promoters are required to provide Mariah Carey at each concert.
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The Eleven Best of Darryl Price, as chosen by Brian W.,dishwasher, music aficionado, tattoo historian,and poetry lover(off the grid but not off the griddle): 1. What I Find 2. The…
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It happened almost overnight. There were long lines of cars at every filling station. There was anger, open hostility. Cars were backing into one another in line, trying to jockey for position. I don't think anyone could believe this was really happening
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Your wandering kisses entered my soul
Then my flesh, then my holes
You filled them all
Like a Norwegian hall
Like a Swedish sailor
Drunk with ale
You fell inside me
And you’re falling still
It was a thrill
I can’t sit still
I got a chi
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My teeth chew out onrubber sparkle handle fromSting ray bicycleSchwinnpants downrush of cars going byOld Cutler Roadclutch of my stomachmy balls black and bluebruisedby the bicycle chain and when I was punched, in the facewhile riding red dreamSchwinn Sting…
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They’ve got sketches for
The invention of the middle finger
At the Museum for
The Gathering Clouds of Innocence
So, why not go there and get a feeling
For the meaning behind everything?
Okay, here’s the truth
I was so busy giving people th
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In the early days of the atmosphere there was less dirt, and the rain had trouble falling. There were no stoplights on earth, only rivers of white light. Early man and birds collided in the upper air, because everything was clear and light like a feather.
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The bench was set by the waterMarbleAnd dedicated to a man etched his name,the year he was born,and the year he died. She had been suffering from a dark narcolepsythat reflected off the cloudsa lightening bolt energylike a screwturn screw and wrench.Door…
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Before I could reach the physical bar,
four rounds of shots were fired.
Desperately, little boys spooged ounces about in every direction.
They only knew one form of celebration,
mating ritual roulette.
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Someone has locked themselves in the large stall
They’re smoking one cigarette after another
And pulling long stretches of toilet paper off the rolls
God only knows for what purpose
And yelling for anyone who’s outside the stall
To go get them
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Later, at home, on the internet, I assemble fragments of street celebrations from cities one coast to the other. I watch them and listen in the compressed fidelity of computer speakers. How strangely things feel.
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When Shorondra Reynolds was a baby we lived in a Baltimore brownstone on the edge of Pigtown. Just me and my mother, when there were no single mothers, just Adele’s mother or Mary’s mama, or Kiki’s madear and their like. It was a time when a five year-old
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We’re lost in a brambly aberration,
thorny tangles of a wacky nation.
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(Suddenly, too lazy to pull even one title from his shelves, he thought: if it's now the “Dao De Jing”, shouldn't it also now be the “I Jing”? Alas, he was no translator.)
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"Oh, sit on my face oh won't you? Your velvety wetness would provide a nice counterpoint to the upholstery of the sofa-matching easy chair, crummy but that's the charm of this hipster-ironic dive playing 80's crap so I have to cram your music in my…
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in the chicken house
this morning. The second
one this week. I carry the stiff hen
out to the back pasture
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I remember it was late at night
I was with
Johnny Appleseed’s younger brother
Bruce
Bruce Appleseed
He was the lead singer for the band
Fake Moustache
Turns out he was just a bum
Set on vibrate
Who’d bought a 10-gallon hat once
But h
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Like any lovable lump of hidden rocks, these hills she breathes life into, blinking existence, are all well worth jumping up and over again and again. Just ask the little kids. Their endless landscape of discovery…
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Wasn’t that you
Giving me the finger
Or was it just
A dead ringer
For the finger of love?
Finger of love
Finger of love
Did you find someone’s dog do
On your doorstep last night
Something didn’t smell right
In the middle of the night
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Whenever I go shopping,
I am trying my best not to be overwhelmed
by an Andy Warhol experience.
This is not like your typical Orwellian
Big Brother experience,
like when enormous Chairman Mao posters
appear out of nowhere,
keeping an eye
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Holden Caulfield starts a band call Crummy
He’s jumping around the stage swearing at everything, every damned thing
in his oversized raincoat that he never ever takes off for any reason
including when there’s the slightest possibility of having sex
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A drunken evening, both men soused and twitchy. An argument ensues with Yellow House roommate Paul Gauguin. The two dissing each other’s work like clicking beetles
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I went to see an audiologist this afternoon. He specialized in tinnitus. Good news for me. I've been plagued with tinnitus for 55 years. It started the morning after a catastrophic experience with LSD. It was there when I awoke in a padded room in a hospital in San José,…
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The Guy Behind Me
only had one item.
And he looked too young
to fully grasp
Loneliness.
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this disc barely spins the jangle of spurs/how long does one revolution take?
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Take a ride past Larry Crane’s 'Jackpot!' recording studio — right here! in the neighborhood! where Sleater-Kinney recorded 'One Beat' and Elliott Smith 'either/or' and Sarah Dougher 'The Walls Ablaze!' woo hoo! — and the kids are singing karaoke.
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There will be no more internal birds like singing clocks, not like the lovely ones I know and still look forward to hearing, ringing like little bells in the church y belfry of the newly sprouting mornings to come, not unless the birds…
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Oh, yeah, that's me, the girl in the blue dress, the girl with short blond hair. Slight smile occasionally passing over her face, sitting at the café table, waiting patiently for the semi-famous rock star to show and buy a house. Brown and sea-green
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I must pause in his discourse to step outside and relieve myself...
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