2022 12 5
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2022 17 11
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She drew her hands out of the chest cavity and looked at the clock.
‘Time of death,’ she said.
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2021 5 4
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I am a sunflower. I turn my yellow and black face, bruised, to the sun, hoping its light will heal me. With my eyes closed I can see my stamen, veins in my eyelids, bulbous where they intersect. The sun feeds…
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2021 16 15
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• Don’t confuse the virtues of bananas with the virtues of banana bread
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2021 5 3
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She wants her mother back and all I can give her is this—over and over. She doesn't want my mouth, wants no kissing anywhere even. Just this. Like this—quiet and rough. Quiet because her stepfather is napping in the bedroom next to…
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2021 8 2
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Jerry tries to be funny saying, I think Charlie Brown should kick Lucy in the head when she pulls the ball away; either that or they start making out. Ewww, but they're both eight years old, Sandra says biting her lip, tying off her smile. Jerry won't focus on her…
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2021 7 3
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“There are no inhibitions in here,” the postman shouted, gesturing at the dance floor with his Marlboro Light, the glowing tip aimed at a woman in a taut skirt. Leaning far forward, her hands nearly touching the plywood floor, she planted her feet and beg
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2020 14 4
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"What I need to wear the ring for," I said to myself, "I already got his last name..."
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2020 21 16
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Tell Bono I want my seventy bucks back.
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2020 0 0
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But there, up the street, just coming into the corner of the window, someone was in the middle of the road. Walking literally down the middle, dragging one leg like it was heavy or broken, carving a fat line next to the skinny one the good one made.
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2020 0 0
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Was Sligo an unfeeling privacy-violator or an uncannily-feeling empath, privy to the deepest longings of those whose lives he came in contact with? [...] Sligo's grave is as silent as these pages ultimately would be if they were left unread.
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2020 3 4
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Out the window is an empty birdbath, dry flaky concrete ring, no birds.
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2020 15 6
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with images overflowing with delicate thought scenes with nightmarish wet dreams
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2020 13 7
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2020 15 10
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chet baker shades my eyes
rippling through the cool water
sometimes we feed the fish
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2019 3 1
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I have never met Joe’s brother, of course.
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2019 9 11
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The understanding we made was neatly wrapped up in its own blue tissue cocoon like a neatly rolled joint and dumped unceremoniously into the forgotten past like a plate of leftover digitized lies. The lid was slammed shut. Time passes too tightly. And you …
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2019 12 7
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It was only when blood began to drip onto the page that he realized he'd been hit.
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2019 2 1
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...I told Uncle Lou I thought it (trans-gendering) looked like a thoughtful way of occupying the world. It was a personal triumph, for some individuals, over the destructive affects of denial. Besides, it hurt no one, and it didn’t destroy property. I alw
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2018 14 5
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She asks if I would like to join them.
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2018 3 4
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We draw a treasure map in the sandwait for the waves to wash it awayI ask you not to leave me stranded hereIf I'm bound for hell, I don't want to be left behindThe sun breaks through the edge of infinityspills over the line, soaking the sky…
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2018 9 5
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. . . the greater length of the so-called “Montebaldi Corridor” can still be walked without the least exposure to direct sunlight as long as the traveler is not active from 9 am to 3 pm local time.
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2018 7 0
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Who is the moron that invented the Snuggie?
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2017 0 0
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I had a weird feeling I had just validated his behavior — provided another tile in the mosaic of his ego and self-esteem — by doing nothing more than entering this hall of mirrors, and reflecting.
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2017 1 0
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For Hector it was animals. Rats, dogs, fish, and quite often horses – sometimes even lions. But for Achilles, it was always dead bodies.
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2017 7 4
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She began guiding Penny’s arms, whispering movements through her body. Memory and experience sang through every fiber of their being. The song had become her life.
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2017 6 3
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For some, a vertical pattern will evoke prison bars, for others, product bar codes.
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2017 5 4
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People tell me my personality is a drug. Could be. My shadow is a spine. And I have the current density of copper. A welcoming face. Opium eyes opium thumbs. The piccolo is parenthetical. …
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2017 2 2
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Most nights while in his sleep, with his one good eye deeply shut, the old man can hear the whispers of the specter in the remote wanderings, holding the surrounding woodlands in its snare. The sound of it closing in, with the bones of the universe crushing in…
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2017 4 1
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I think theorems and hypotheses
but all that comes out is punching and smashing
frustrated hate flows where I'd prefer to know love.
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