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Epistemology (Revised 2019)

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RE: The big stuff: We don’t know RE: The small stuff: Half of what you believe is true but you will never know which half

But the Heart Loves Chaos

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The mind likes logic, but the heart loves chaos. The light is always on in Reality, isn’t it? Maybe I sought you out to make sense of my life, I don’t know. Maybe I wanted some sense that you were still how I remembered you (at least a little of you tha

They

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They had been part of the world for as long as he knew, but they were still an enigma to Timothy. They had an origin but he did not know what it was or what they were. They were both the source and the outcome. They generated and spread the information.

Introducing Molloy Foppiano

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Before Andromeda can swallow us expand our stars...

Tough Love in 1978

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The secret government may run her like a pellet through birdshot fire at anyone where everyone is a bread basket or hooligan. He was in prison because he owned a gun then sold it.

The Parade Route

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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…

the break up

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Well I, for one, knew immediately what these great muffled sobs were coming from the parking lot behind our apartment complex. This stud named Clint was dumping one of his girlfriends, again. Exactly how many were there? Could have been a dozen, for all

Holden Caulfield and his Crummy Band

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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

there's a light moving toward me in the sky

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There’s a light moving toward me in the sky. How often at the edges of reason, the howling desire has taken me. Howling desire! How often it has taken me in its mouth, naked, and shaken me. And now there’s a light moving toward me in the sky. There’

Head Eloquence

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You know I'm living in the past...

The Dream to Build a City

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I tried to drain the ocean But only got a waterfall I tried to drain the sky But only got a thunderstorm I got lightning I got rain I had to build a city By blowing on the palm of my hand The sands rose up The dust blew away And all

Existential Weather Report (Election Day 2020)

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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.

Poetry for Cats

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Call me crazy, but I like to write poetry. For cats.

sweet beast of idle speculation

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So, the sweet beast of idle speculation may be calling my name by memory, because I am capable of feeling, or suffering. I may be a conduit to such, because the rational soul provides the bridge. Some wild ass summoning your name, clean, uncovered, disc

The dream diary of Anna Perez - page 63

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I came suddenly awake and the rain was beating a furious rhythm on the rooftops, like a thousand shaken tambourines, like a thousand angry mojaves.

A Worthy Caws

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It started with crows. I'd walk the switchback trail to the top of the park with its outlook of the city and if I didn't see any crows I'd whistle and they'd come swarming from everywhere. I'd give the peanuts a toss and the crows would caw their heads off and peck at…

The Endless Dream of Humanity

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I may have walked across the sacred line That separates me from the rest of mankind But I already paid my dues So, what club do I get into? When I wake up And the wild rain of dreaming Ends I discover that Guilt is just another four-le

Summertime, NYC

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We would walk to the gallery opening along the Highline, looking in all the windows in the evening, hoping to see life as it’s lived in the moment, the flesh, the mystery, with all the clothes of unreason removed, hoping to see the exposed nipple and the

Geek Love

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We’ve clicked/ and tapped ‘til dawn/ and our exhaustion meet,

This Life

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Me and the wife are tucked away in our little house.

4 Haiku

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we wanted summer: Distillers at Myhalyk's all those cancelled shows

Acknowledgements

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I sit in a café and watch the near palms of summer swaying against the far ridge of hills and young girls walking along in their sleeveless summer dresses. Their shoulders speaking their long history of sex and future children,

The Andy Warhol Experience

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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

It’s Real TV, Uncle Remus

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We’re lost in a brambly aberration, thorny tangles of a wacky nation.

Afternoon In The Park

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He liked to say that he was taking a moral and spiritual inventory check. Well, he would like to say that if anybody asked what his problem was. He was a ticking time-bomb, as his grandfather liked to…

Enemies Are Taken Care Of?

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You took me to this great salad bar once, down in Chicago, on a special date. It must have been for my birthday (how old was I!) I remember that salad bar. It was the only salad bar I’ve ever seen that had caviar. I loved that black caviar. They put it up

Orientations within the Zwischenwelt

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Licking bowl and spoon taste and foretaste follow.

From This Distance

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Can you remember how we could each disappear completely. . . .

Happy Absurdist Halloween

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Sure I dress funny sometimes, but I have an excuse–I don’t give a shit.

Vintage Orlando

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"Benny can't come over anymore." I was 12. Latchkey kid, but we didn't call it that. Mom working in another town. Dad working in another town. My brother. 2. My responsibility. "Why? Why not?"