1757 17 17
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The Cheese Maker's Son;
The Pretenders;
Train Whistles in the Wintertime
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1757 11 6
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Follow my finger up the canyon wall, past the Chevy wedged into its own ferocious orbit. It was that innocent...
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1757 6 4
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In grief, I'd ride a slow train there with you, /
one hand in yours and one hand on the rail,
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1756 27 19
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“There’s an ill energy that emanates
from your precise heart that I find attractive”
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1756 33 16
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It was a year of red, white, and blue bell bottoms, chokers, and mini-skirts. It was not a decade of pink stretch pants, pink sweatshirts, and pink snowsuits.
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1756 20 4
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It's supposed to resemble the sea bed. These fish have never seen the outside of an aquarium and even if they had, they are reef fish, they'd probably get the bends and die if they went to the bottom of the ocean where the chances of them finding a cerami
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1756 6 2
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You longed to rip off her butterfly wings and watch her scream in agony. You ached to carve the steel from her eyes.
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1756 3 0
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His movements were slowed by the metaphysical force of his own passing recollections, and he brushed from his face the silt he'd distrurbed on this forced descent.
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1755 9 7
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Let’s be honest, you were cheating on your girlfriend, and I would’ve slept with anyone
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1755 1 1
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[CAUTION: IF YOU ARE UNDULY "FIXATED" ON GOD, AMERICA, MOM, APPLE PIE, AND/OR BASEBALL ... YOU MAY WANT TO AVERT YOUR EYES!]
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1755 0 0
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While Erik rubs my back, I fall asleep. I'm not lying on my bed in Florida - I'm face down on the pavement outside Brooklyn Pharmacy. And it's not Erik's hand smoothing oil of cassis into my skin, but that Officer Green's meaty one gripping me . . .
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1755 0 0
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So we waited for it to get dark. I smelled her there beside me against the tree, and fell asleep and dreamed of an unbombed stone church whose steeple was so high it pierced the clouds. It's time, came a voice from one of the back pews. “It's…
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1755 9 1
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...there’s one thing we’ve found, an untapped demographic.
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1754 1 0
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Before I was 18 years old, in my small home town of Bridgewater, Nova Scotia, Canada, I invented the designer jean...
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1754 7 2
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There were a lot of advantages to having shoelaces.
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1754 25 5
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" Not a day goes by/ that isn't stabbed with common sorrow"--Maurice Manning Crazy's alright by me if it's a harmless plea for some little sanity, or unavoidable by birth but it just won't do for tricks. Like say I go over there right…
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1753 9 5
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During fifth grade, I was called /
closeted queer and tall faggot.
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1753 12 8
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Two-way conversation with God.
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1753 9 3
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Our city is really two cities, conjoined. One lives during the day, the other at night. Those who live and breathe daytime air call the city by one name, a name which evokes the relative newness of the place, a name with words just barely invented.…
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1752 16 8
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He disliked intrusion and very specifically innocuous intrusion, nice guys, one might say, who tried to be near him to learn something from him or who admired him but who, as in that passage, came merely to disturb his work.
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1752 13 9
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Walking those damned dogs is a pain… a PAIN every night. If it’s not urban skunks, it’s Mormons on bikes… the bastards
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1752 16 13
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This is self-reflection or self-reflexive writing. Candor but not verse. That is what I write: not-verse. On occasion I write a poem though rarely an occasional poem. Instead of calling it non-fiction we could call it non-verse.
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1752 10 7
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Going to catch Ma a fish. Won't be special like Tom coming home. But she won't have to feed it. She can eat it.
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1752 0 0
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They tell me I’m crazy. I say I’m just keeping up.
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1751 7 5
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Pow! I shoot him through his jelly donut.
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1750 4 3
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She'd make a great catch in the rain. Because in the rain nothing moves. No cat girl of deep shade eyeliner. No saint of dark corners.
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1750 17 13
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“You’re a hard habit to break,” I said. My tongue was flaring. Flirting with nurses was my father’s thing.
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1750 20 16
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It was Gatlinburg in mid July
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1750 10 10
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... and you can’t balance your checkbook or divide a three-way bill in a restaurant but you can still recite all the sixteen ways of SHAUN CASSIDY TELLS: 16 WAYS TO TURN ME ON!
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1749 12 11
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Mick Jagger and I strolled rue Gabrielle in Montmartre. Our conversation spread from apples to shellfish. We stopped for some oysters. Do you remember a time when books were venerated, I asked? I remember a time, he said, when rock and roll was a fetus in the tank of…
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