860 2 1
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You had to put up with
Sunday drivers
You had to love children
All children, all of them!
This is what it took to be God
It wasn’t fun
You had to be patient, sometimes
You had to pretend to look the other way
You needed to lose your he
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859 0 0
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The dog catcher appeared to be trolling the neighborhood in his doggy death van.
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859 3 3
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I like to collect twilights. I fold them carefully and put them in my wallet. They fit neatly between the dollar bills that have a weird tendency to curl. This bugs me. I don't know why they do that. Something to do with the design of the wallet. But the twilights fit…
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859 0 0
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Rick is short, red-haired and looks like his head has been plopped directly onto his torso.
Francine is six foot two, likes guys her height and prefers some of their height to consist of neck.
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859 7 4
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...Or perhaps it has; It depends which way you look at it. Perhaps the reader may cite laziness As my reason for not titling this Any other than I would have done As now, with such a title As it has, since for some reason I never…
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859 4 2
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859 0 0
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Ordonez gives me a look that speaks a volume–Volume 4 of the Encyclopedia Americana, Birmingham to Burlington, which includes the subject of bullfighting.
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858 0 0
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Do you remember who Laura S was? She was the one who tore out Shel’s heart. (It so happened that she was one of Lynda’s closest friends, and knew all her secrets.) Shel started seeing a shrink after Laura dumped him, and he would go around s
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858 1 0
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what i will always remember of you is of that singular sunday / when a black lock of hair brushed against your cheek
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857 3 3
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“What the hell was that?
Is that your take on
The Deer Hunter?”
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857 1 0
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www.echapbook.com/fiction/ratch
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857 0 0
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What was it about you that so inflamed the flower of our youth? That you could touch lightly that which illuminates all splendor and simplicity? That you could reach beyond mere flesh directly into the gates of heaven, and put me there, floating within
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857 13 5
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Dawn is spreading its pink and blue colours over the morning. Pleasant hues, with children playing and birds chattering. A light morning, without commitments, without waves, open to promises. Mornings don't speak our language and don't make the same gestures. They speak a…
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857 0 0
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Gabe had told the stewardess that he wanted to talk to Ben. Her name was Claudia and she knew whom he was talking about. That foxy musician Ben, thought Gabe, he probably boned her on some previous flight.
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857 3 1
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If in the course of a discussion of improvements someone says: “I have no idea” in a particular way at a particular moment, “I have no idea” will migrate and soon lots of people will find themselves saying “I have no idea” again and again without knowing
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856 9 8
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Her hands are swift and supple as swallows, bouncing off the keyboard in rapid-fire constellations of notes, because she's playing Bach's Concerto no.1 in D Minor, which is busy and prodigal and all over the place. She is Polina Olegovna Osetinskaya, a beautiful Russian…
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856 2 2
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The body receives its embrace but / only by the anti-body.
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855 2 0
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854 4 3
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for Edward Victory is death. Rock stardom is death. Life is murderous.Love's still beaded much longer and stronger than any row of round headed lovers. You can't stop death from turning to face you, but itsnot exactly expecting your poem's referral either. In…
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854 2 0
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I do not like it when the dead look back at me.
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854 0 0
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Maybe love shouldn't exist
. . .
If we follow this notion
there is no great need
Where does it come from,
this great need?
. . .
If (it) is in the blood
how do they get it out?
If not,
where is it
If they do not allow
thought
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852 2 2
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he felt like ranting about cars.
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852 8 5
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Don't forget to fuck me. Blow me. Suck me. Don't forget to fuck me. [REPEAT 2X]
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852 11 8
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aquatic, free-swimming or earth-bound
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851 8 5
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They say his irrational outbursts and insane rantsare the results of untreated syphilis. Well, thatmakes perfect sense to me. I've always thoughtof him as a tessellated spirochete, a narcissistic chancre,festering pustule of a blistered imposthume. And whywouldn't a…
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851 1 1
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There I saw a woman with dyed long red hair
Dressed all in furs and a short tight skirt
Way too young for her age
And she was banging a tampon on her leg
At the performance of Ramblin Jack Eliot
And no one got up to throw red wine on her
Ful
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851 1 1
|
That morning arrived with the sound of steel pipe hitting the ground
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850 2 0
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When one hears the siren call of artsy high school love, there’s not much one can do except go ahead and crash on the rocks, sending incense sticks and candles flying.
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850 1 0
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"I'm dreading it," says Kati Rivers, a visual artist who has lived in the Fort Point Channel district. "A bunch of fat suburbanites driving up rents and crowding creative people out of the little cafes and bistros."
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850 5 3
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If you ever find yourself outside a funeral home lighting up
contemplating the future of the unknown, contemplate this
Maybe the cigarette’s wet on your lip and you are wondering why
Or in the middle of the night you are lying awake
and try sa
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