1934 1 1
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Who knows how long I have been crouched here, tied down by kelp and thin vines, trading laments with animals? They all look terrified.
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1933 4 3
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What you may see initially could be only half the poem. The rest is hidden.
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1933 37 18
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so sassy so sassy so cool
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1933 2 2
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After we'd been on the highway about an hour, it started to snow. Sammy leaned down to pick up the roach he'd dropped, and we skidded off the highway
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1932 6 2
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It’ll die in there and the stairwell’ll stink for weeks, Greg says in the car. We’re quiet, considering that.
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1932 4 0
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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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1931 14 6
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Sasha and I had snorted a table of cocaine and I had her trapped inside my Joy Division bedroom.
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1931 17 6
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On the very day I was fired from Penn State, in 1971, I was also kidnapped by a short-lived underground student revolutionary group who spelled their own name wrong. They shoved me into the backdoor of a yellow rusted-out car on Atherton Street, blindfolded me. A…
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1930 12 2
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...a blunt thrust of a face, uncongenial in profile, and the ubiquitous green cap that says John Deere, with the yellow ideogram of a deer for graduates of our local schools.
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1930 5 3
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Show me where to go, he said out of defiance for the moment in which time was malleable and fat minutes were consumed by wayward, languid hours. And all I could do for the time being was sit there excruciatingly anxious for this to pass, so it…
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1930 6 2
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I pasted a sample paragraph of my writing on the website 'Who do you write like?'.
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1930 1 0
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Forever
Implies
To my recycled soul
That it is achievable
If only I stretch myself
Towards it
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1929 10 7
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The birds were stacked up in the branches of a pine tree behind the feeder. Several were sitting on the fence. “They’re massing,” she said.
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1929 7 5
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That sort of says it all, doesn’t it?
The skirmish for truth must be fought early in the morning.
Lies happen later in the day.
Big lies occur in the night.
And this belongs directly on the surface of time as well:
Alleged shoplifter arrested
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1929 5 0
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once wedding cake
under pillows.
now fluffy frosting
on squashed defeat
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1928 2 1
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When I glance at the bedside clock I realize that we have been making love in one way or another for nearly three hours now. I am filled with a certain secret smugness that I am still going strong. It has been a long time since I’ve done anything quite li
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1927 20 16
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It was Gatlinburg in mid July
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1927 17 7
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Since the divorce had gone final, the matter settled once and for all, he’d taken to a masochistic bingo of sorts.
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1927 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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1927 15 5
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I work in finance. Yes, I have money. Yes, my apartment building has a doorman.
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1927 2 1
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“Hear that?” asks my wife Amy. Books in hand, we relax on our flagstone patio. A shaft of late-day sun borrows through the maples' leafy canopy and deposits a dazzling, sunlit pool on Amy's lap. …
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1927 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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1927 13 10
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I try to envision long-haired men riding horses across a vast expanse, their faces blank as those of my students.
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1927 47 26
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Drop out of school. Buy a journal and keep a list of excuses. Run wind sprints and lay off the beer. Use teeth whitener.
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1927 8 4
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Should I believe you now? I said fuck you. I knew better but I said it. He kicked me some but I covered up, he didn’t get me bad as he thought. When he got tired, he took my doorkey off my ring. Said make me come back, and I’ll kill you. And he left.
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1927 9 10
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No one knows that, while the ex-Area 51 guy delivered his rant, Art Bell left the booth for a Diet Coke.
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1927 12 7
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Another thing about Dysthymia is how I get locked into a thought, a needle in a record of a song I can’t get out of my head, a song that drives me crazy until I hear it again, until I play it just the amount of times to where my brain is satisfied.
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1926 10 9
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I hear the slightly scratched voice of Joan Baez coming from
the record player singing about the junipers in the pale moonlight,
applause erupting like hailstone on a corrugated iron roof.
I am singing back through the bedroom wall,
wishing the
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1926 17 9
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"we are all headed to be forsaken by animal hearts a mountain of poor"
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1926 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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