2109 3 1
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A canister of unused laughter taken from the mouth of a baby not yet born
A splinter of wood from a cross, perfectly preserved in dark tea
taken from the belly of a dead Irishman
A milky vial of smog taken from the air of Los Angeles circa 1965
A
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2109 1 1
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you wear the warmth of death/
and your heat eternity/
blasts on mourn from your heart
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2109 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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2109 14 8
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once she went to quenchthen she went to scrubnow she collects dead toadsgrinds them with cornmeal to feed her sowsonce she ploughed the land toiled with her face deep in dark soil her back burning in hot sunnow she works in the paper millmaking laminated labels for the…
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2108 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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2108 7 2
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There were a lot of advantages to having shoelaces.
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2108 0 0
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Alysia slowed down for a moment. She clutched her head again. She looked up and found herself at a playground. There was a familiarity in the air.
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2108 13 8
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I had been in bed for a couple of days and by this I mean sleeping for fifteen or sixteen hours at a time. I don’t think that I believed in God anymore. I no longer knew how to stay awake.
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2107 16 11
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Poor souls. Likely they'll be poets.
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2107 9 8
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Turns out it was you. But. You made it into the latest dumping ground in spite of their voted insults. In spite of being told you weren't even going to be around to be danced with. The loneliest girl now looks perfectly trim and trendy to all eyes.…
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2107 10 9
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I was a disposable disaster at first, a thousand Light years ago. We sail the seas we're given, and Like all of you I did my best to survive , but that doesn't mean we get To survive it like you. Our course may have blown us Completely…
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2106 7 6
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His toenails were so long they curled under and into the black leathery pads of his feet. They lightly clacked on our linoleum, tap shoes made of thick petrified roots. He didn't seem to mind.
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2106 23 14
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Henry yells at her when she lights cigarettes and candles. But this is her small secret ritual, her way of making good with the god she is no longer sure she believes in...
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2106 2 0
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A black wind raced ahead of the Merbreth and Juko could smell the thing's fur, matted with the blood of men. The coppery scent mingled with the fear coming off the men around him, a fear so palpable it became a tangible thing, something to be tripped over
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sooner or later you realize
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2106 11 9
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They kiss, opening their mouths into a smile, sharing a secret. Their kiss is so intimate. I blush, and look away embarrassed and a little aroused.
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2105 6 4
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I put my arms around her and whisper to her while she plays the piano. She wiggles and tells me to stop it.
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2105 3 2
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2105 2 0
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She spilled her neurons across the dissecting board of the violin, breathed deep and forced herself outward with every exhalation. Her molecules mixed with wax and horsehair, and her heart valves arched in unison.
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2105 0 0
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I, personally, just had no interest in having some pimply-faced moron stick his tongue down my throat.
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2105 8 6
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Len and I sit on Harpo's porch, drink beer and gab. It's hot, even for July. Len and I joke and laugh, and Harpo stares off into the middle distance.
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2105 9 3
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I love how you touch me, your hands warm on my shape...
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2104 30 17
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It was a surprise they put me in a dormitory, not a cell,
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2104 10 8
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a mid-life crisis in 55 words
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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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2104 17 8
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I kiss his sunburned nose, so nice under the beach house. We hear the shower of palm leaves like wings getting ready. We talk about a time we'll no longer know each other, when he'll be sad in a bar in another state, slipping and sliding and petting lost dogs in the parking…
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2103 0 0
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Mama Blinkey Lights yells at Papa Blinkey Lights and tells him to quit playing the fool, and when we turn our attention back to removing the shafts, we are chagrined to find that not only have they multiplied once again, but that they have gone yet farthe
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2103 6 5
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The tapestry of time gets another stitch.
The countdown clock rolls forward.
The whole crazy picture gets a little bit
clearer.
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2103 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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2103 21 18
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There can be no convergence./
There is only the talking that talks about/
an angle of sight nothing else can share.
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