1778 3 4
|
I’m going to stop there, before the darkness sets in.
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1778 9 6
|
Okay, no freaking out. I mean, this isn't a suicide note. This is suicide fiction.
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1778 0 0
|
Pussy’s eyes narrowed, her dark, luxurious fur quivering on her back. “How can you say such a thing! It’s not true.”
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1777 13 8
|
Heaven’s a blast! It’s like a big summer camp in space...We are the weavers of the tie-dyed sky.
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1777 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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1776 6 7
|
In study hall Brandon sat like a little faggot so I said “Hey faggot.”“That's right, faggot. Don't look at me. I don't like faggots looking at me. I don't want their faggot eyes on me, faggot.”Bell rang and he walked like a faggot and held his books…
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1776 16 13
|
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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1776 21 6
|
The "Many Worlds" theory, applied.
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1775 16 8
|
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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1775 13 9
|
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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1775 15 12
|
This is the best kind of crime scene.
Spattered like gore from gunshots,
I'm left covered in trace evidence.
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1775 17 6
|
The Boys The Boys, they call my brothers in the neighborhood, or Those Boys. The Taylor Boys. Sometimes, Mom calls them Thing One and Thing Two, like in The Cat in the Hat. Those bad boys. Nobody has brothers like my brothers, kicked off the school bus, barred…
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1775 2 0
|
The women of Bixby, Texas, united in their frustration and general thirst for arson, cheered as Flossie’s Bordello and Bar-B-Q Shack burned to the ground.
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1774 7 2
|
There were a lot of advantages to having shoelaces.
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1773 12 7
|
It was only when blood began to drip onto the page that he realized he'd been hit.
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1773 8 7
|
Whenever talk dies, or darkness gathers too closely around the breakfast table, everyone knows the list of ritual activities we can brightly suggest to skip the day forward.
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1772 12 7
|
I draw your location on my thighs. It takes up both legs; it’s far. I think about showing you but something comes up. The phone rings. I tell her I don’t want to donate to the PBA.
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1772 4 1
|
There’s an oak tree in Hanover, New Hampshire. Twenty years old, it is still a sapling. I imagine that one day the tree will have a commanding view of the Connecticut River and Norwich, Vermont, where my mom sat in bed, crying, watching everything unfol
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1772 17 5
|
I turn my head. Time starts running.
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1771 9 9
|
Frisbee dog. Stealth the cat. Read more. Cut toenails. Less wine. Bind the ties. Avoid mirrors. Divide water.
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1771 7 3
|
It seemed there should be more tongue, so I started more, getting closer, and disguising my interest as being personable and caring about the yard triangle.
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1771 22 10
|
The Count was used to boredom but he had reached the point where he was even bored with boredom.
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1771 22 16
|
My mother used to say she'll be just like you and you‘ll deserve it. I was a Punk Rocker. A rebel. Emily worries about things like grades and sports. She's on the soccer team. I got stoned under the bleachers. Emily, is a good kid. …
|
1771 2 1
|
[Her adviser] looked at her and tilted his head, smiling. Over his shoulder she saw the M104 bus cruising up Broadway, and considered diving under it. Instead she took off toward the corner, in shame, and he followed. When they parted ways, he took her ha
|
1771 2 0
|
I’ll bring the naproxen sodium so we won’t have any problem grabbing things.
|
1771 4 0
|
Remember me? I am the large, dented acorn you threw at your brother, Ken, during the huge acorn war of 1969. You were thirteen. He was eleven. And the entire neighborhood was in your backyard that day. Steve, Jack, Jerry, Tom, Dan, Jeff, Drew. A bunch of the kids…
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1770 6 6
|
Every single girl, from junior to senior (and a few counselors too, I suspected), wanted to make out with Marty Miller. Did he know how drunk with attraction I was?
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1770 26 18
|
sooner or later you realize
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1770 12 10
|
SeesWe fell into this lake together and traced the clean soft lines straight back to ourselves, with a carefree laugh, ha ha ha-- an embarrassing ease. This small miracle does tend to put in orbit something high flying besides clouds into the sky inside of…
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1770 0 0
|
The place turns out to have a really nice ambiance, and while the pasta is only passable—though I ordered, I believe, the cheapest plate on the menu, so maybe I got what I deserved—the background dinner music playing is "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" by Wilco.
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