1874 0 1
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meanings figure into traffic streams reds fade, trickle down the long ‘V' another passing human ear; tall, tall buildings paper poised on horizon. situations gape in and out of seconds corners turn to disappearance, witness follows fingers…
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1874 10 7
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People do want to be kind. It's just that sometimes they need a little push (or, in a few cases, a big fat shove) in the right direction.
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1874 13 13
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Talking about a Friend Over a Cup or Two of Coffee “Their first fight was over school lunches. Free school lunches. She taught Kindergarten in a public special ed center for emotionally disturbed children. The…
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1873 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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1873 7 3
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see this:/ ink-stained paper/ littering miles
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1873 16 17
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what smells like love may not be love at all
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1873 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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1873 9 2
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You never thought you were capable of rape.
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1873 11 7
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When I got out I didn't buy a new suit of clothes, step into a bar, or bargain for an hour with a whore.
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1873 5 4
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I would be reduced to begging on the streets and hoping for a sign of her in soup lines.
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1873 7 2
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A lowing cow cracked open the darkened room like the yawn of a gravid alien.
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1873 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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1873 10 9
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I ordered biscuits and gravy
at the Sunset Grill,
Just before the Amber Alert
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1872 8 0
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What can I say about my brother, Stroman. We are twins and we hate each other. He is an honest, brave man with scruples. He is full of bullshit. He thinks I am morally twisted. He probably has a point there, but I don’t see what that has got to do with
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1872 7 4
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1872 42 18
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At the Cimitiere Montparnasse he offers the girl his raincoat. I'm searching for Samuel Beckett, he says, and holds an umbrella over her as she consults her map. We're close, she says, pointing. I'll go with you. Then we can visit Simone de Beauvoir. My name is Scarlet.…
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1872 2 1
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After he’d told her on Friday that No, he wasn’t going to sign that contract for the cemetery plots she’d picked out—“I don’t want to spend my whole life knowing exactly where I’ll end up” is exactly what he’d said—the marriage, as far as she was concerne
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1872 0 0
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He said he'd searched in vain for his wife, Mary, before abandoning hope and the ship in one of the last row boats. He was allowed in because of his experience fishing.
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1872 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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1871 11 6
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The voices he hears are God and the Devil and he knows the difference. Therefore, he is not mentally ill.
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1871 6 3
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For some, a vertical pattern will evoke prison bars, for others, product bar codes.
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1871 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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1871 16 4
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Somewhere along tomorrow, I will forget I have the right to do this.
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1870 2 1
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A killer enters the room. No one notices, and the show goes on.
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1870 2 1
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He tapped his foot, swished his hips, swaying across the worn tile floor with an invisible partner in his arms, the batter-coated spoon still clutched in his right hand, momentarily forgotten. Nearly a decade had passed since he last shared a dance with h
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1870 18 8
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"leaves &damage, &shifts of shape"
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1869 2 2
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“You wouldn't believe it.” Peter leaned in to whisper. “Don’t let the Kodak moment with the wife and kids fool you. That guy is totally gay.”
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1869 18 10
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I miss my fire from the first three races
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1869 14 14
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That was before Cohen died. Castro died. Castro Died should be a title by Samuel Beckett. Once I nearly went out to buy a bass clarinet just for the purpose of playing along with Leonard Cohen.
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1868 3 0
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