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Heirloom

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“Have the tomatoes come in yet?”“Dottie…”Mrs. Dorothea Tilden pointed a trembling finger at Harriet.“You promised me tomatoes, Harry.”Harriet put her hands on her hips, a stance Dorothea knew well. One more sharp word meant fight; two…

My Hollows

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Let me say these words now

cleveland

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The girl went outside her door and stood and stared at the sky.there were clouds in the sky. the girl wore glasses with black framesthe girl stared at the sky some more and put on a bright yellow baseball hatshe sat in a white resin chairthe girl sat quietly and watched the…

You Pour Vodka In Your Coffee

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I wonder if she is my real mother, if I could get one of those paternity tests and find out if she’s my real mother and if the guy she told me was my father was really my father. I can’t remember him very well, just a lot of him screaming and hollering an

Morning in Louisiana

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Sunlight slaps the asphalt hard. Steam rises. It looks like thought. The sweet vapors of rumination.

When Words Were First Born

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When words were first born They were like pure prayer I could see them in the sky And hear them whispering through your hair But now they’re like dreams That only sorrow owns We still need the sun We need to find Solace on the ground

The lyre bird

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When silence makes his way next to me on the narrow path, I let his arm brush mine, and I stop singing with the birds. So, in the vast forest filled with songs and rustling, silence and I follow our path to the edge. Two tranquil strollers, meditating on the ancient voices…

BEACH

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It's just me.An October afternoon.Ocean and Ocean and Ocean. if you keep looking, down the coastthere is fog.Only fog and me and sea.I imagine him before I see him.Slow walk just above the water line, the fog catching up behind him,fantastical cape.The rational…

In the Sun

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The light was bright andthey sat on the railing of the long wooden bridge in the sun. She looked up at her father."Oh Daddy, where did you go?" she asked.He was young with black shinny hair blowing in the wind. "To Heaven, little girl,"She shook her head."What's…

Ice Cutter

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McMurdo Sound. Amundsen. Penguins huddled in a mass...

Van Gogh’s Ear

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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

Sisyphus takes the day off

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what-ta-hell, fuck this/he snorts brushing/ the dust from his shoulders

I Can Sacrifice My Self

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The sacrificial tendency is a real ugly one A pound of flesh, because it grows back But gnarled and scarred For you, So you may smile or cry Whatever you need How about an ounce of truth? How about I make a maze And you walk through…

AltspaceVR

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BelizeIn Belize there is muddy water. Rivers turned brown from the silt and clay of the soil. Water that looks like chocolate milk but the kind of chocolate milk that came in a box like a juice box and not a carton. That type of chocolate milk.Belize comes from an old…

Muffled

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A poem not about fog written in fog with an erasable pen.

Professor _________

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"First we’ll get a good workout at the discotheque where my lady friend works. Don’t worry, she’s already arranged for a friend of hers to attend so you won’t have to suffer the indignity of being a third wheel."

the wrap

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a whisper of wind

THE BOOK OF SUCH ~ a suite of poems

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A Being of Aether, who having appeared to me one morning, instructed me in the geometry of thorns. She seemed to be semi-infinite as her often melodious speaking voice was unimaginable in one direction and limited in another.

No New Clothes for the Empress

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Because I was not sure if the poet had said yearn or urine, I zoomed in on her mouth as she commanded the lectern...

Cambridge Vignettes (from the 1960s)

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I wanted none of her. But also that day I had just finished The Story of 0., and my mind was full of sadistic whimsies and the mood of anythingness that the book instills: the pound of fleshness. Anyway, I sneered at her and told her she bored me, and sat

FRAT JERK (1960s)

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I threw my cards on the table. The jerk was playing his classical records again. I could hear that lousy music a mile away and he was the kind of kid that makes your skin crawl. But he had a CD sound system and it was up loud this time so that the house

Wrong Number

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He tilted his head at his monitor and exhaled “No.” Minutes later, he tilted his head the other way and more sharply exclaimed “No!” Then he began over the next quarter hour simply to stare at the data stream before him, which left him speechless.

The Sweet Need to Dream

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We all ache for the Purple storm that’s said to Smear its finger in the one True place our soul resides On the road to delicate love Rising in the summer blood And the raw shadows Behind lust make a woman Heave in the Garden While lis

No More Little Bridget

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I spend my time sitting on the back step—poison oak reddening my arm—under the eaves, waiting to escape.

Switchback

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I realize I am standing with my hands on my naked hips, my panties and shorts are clumped around my left ankle.

A Body Divided, 1

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"Polio?" people wondered. They asked: "Is that contagious?" Nobody knew. It was 1953. The epidemic raged on. Children in some towns were being made to stay indoors during the polio season for fear that the disease was airborne. It was putting an unnatura

Alex Kraft and the Otherworld: Prologue through Chapter 27

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Prologue Late at night, an old man named Drevin Philpott stands on the deck of a cruise ship, looking out at the sea. The man is hunched and very small. His arms and legs are thin and he's got a bowling ball for a gut. He's standing on a chair so he can…

Red

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I'm in a pediatric emergency roomThere are teenagers who don't want to liveAnd babies who won'tBecause viruses still spread and people won't learnThe election results are coming inAnd somehowFucking somehowUnderqualified, overly bigoted politicians still winUnder the banner…

Ghostwriters!

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(Sung to the melody of "Ghostbusters")When your prose is weakMetaphors clichésWho you gonna callGhostwriters!Characters they speakNot much to sayWho you gonna callGhostwriters!I ain't ‘fraid of no rejectionI ain't ‘fraid of no rejectionLyin' in your bedImagination soarsWho…

Slightly Down And Off To The Left

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It was just her way. Slightly down and off to the left. Mom never looked anyone in the eye.