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What shall stain the page with metaphorical wisdom? Words fell short of intention, displaying only a faux interpretation of ultimate meaning. They drifted in and out, and he struggled to coerce their conformity to…
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1. And so, another top heavy day within the sworn to camp enemies of a purely human musical swamp, who want only to own the essences of that ancient sweet fragrance, like all the others, and sell it back to us at a tidy profit, which…
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behind your one perfectly showcased yet irreplaceable earlobe, like a still inflated island-- in order to float away on any slight rogue gust of gregarious wind-- seedling tool kit and so I mistakenly thought I'd just …
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In the store, multi-color kites dance along the ceiling. And in the costume aisle, a young mother shows her daughter how to tie her shoe. “Bunny ears, around the corner…” Glass animals shine in rows on high shelves. A boy examines lengths…
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Every morning there’s the breast
and the nipples of ecstasy
It is not the spider’s fault
that it is mesmerized by the web
Blame nature, blame God
Doesn’t the alley cat
automatically know how to howl?
Don’t blame me
if I am addicted t
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At two AM I went to bed, and the mill shut down shortly after. The silence jerked me out of sleep so fast I almost screamed. Choking and sweating, I lay there and tried to figure out why I was so scared. And then I realized: for the first time in half a y
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I saw ice on the bottom of the moon last night, and I always thought I knew what it meant to go without, but this is something else again. To be without you this long is exhausting, it could wither the soul to go on like this. There’s this head hanging,
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Who does that besides Kafka,
Arreola, and Steven Wright?
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I appreciated the abject abyss / of my blue bowl / this morning and made up my mind / to measure how many times / I stared down / the dismal, damp / drain for the day.
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James Hubert III sat at the bar. It was late. His wife and kids were long in bed and he knew he should be, too. But with the Lovelandtown lift bridge stuck in mid-air, a drink beckoned him. He sat next to Vince DeSantos, a small, stout man, with a bowling
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Wait for it. It's not the end of the world, it's the end of certain things. It's not that the sky is falling, it's that the coral reefs are dead or dying. I don't know how the ravaged trees have managed to survive this long with us breathing…
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"Where've you been?" the image in the mirror asked. "I haven't seen you since yesterday," she said.
"Yeah, I miss you too," he said.
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. . .and still wild roses star far fields the same.
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You gave me all of the power, and none of the power.
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My job was take the falls, act the dope, finish at the wrong end of the slap stick for the blow off. I was Auguste, the fool; I drove the clown car.
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Certain basic realities have escaped us. This is a good time to remember.
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It comes to our attention
you have what it takes
to join our enterprise.
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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
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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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From decade to decade, editorial opinion swings and sways as to whether the fault of volubility resides chiefly with the practitioner or with the lawless company he keeps.
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I rang the doorbell. Claire opened the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I opened my arms to give her a big hug. She stiffened and pulled away. Stunned, my lips parted, but I couldn’t think of a single word to say.
Ideal, Phillis. ”Broken”, Pure
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The paper was strewn, everywhere.
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The story of the black pen drawing a dark hole
makes everything seem so elaborate and obscure.
Or even a seven-year-old leading police
on a wild car chase to avoid church.
Or naming a new band Fuchsia,
which looks like the beginning of an
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A couple, an unlikely match, came together for a brief interlude of time. It was marked, almost a kind of bar code; beginning, middle and almost end. Almost end was not "the" end because it was seemingly fated that they continue the journey through life, if not together, at…
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The dead tongues chuckle/
in Etruscan
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When I sit in the front-facing seat beside him, I feel him flinch a little and stiffen, not from fear but from aggression.
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Just an abnormal visit to the post office.
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They called him Hank. We piled in a car and drove up from Irvine to his little bungalow apartment on DeLongpre near Hollywood Blvd. for a collating party for this Mag he started with Neely called “Laugh Literary and Man the Humping Guns.” No shit, that wa
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we wanted summer:
Distillers at Myhalyk's
all those cancelled shows
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