1363116
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Altodog was dressed in filthy chef’s trousers and a long-sleeved purple dress shirt, somewhat dignified by a tattered black vest.
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72522
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A black and white Malamute chasing down a deer
to the edge of the water, and putting her mouth
on it. The hurt deer fallen into the water to escape.
Red blood floating out into the water like cloth.
The boy racing down the slope into the reeds t
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1214159
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We liked the orderly Newtonian/
with its fundamentalist action/
and reaction, its rules
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92021
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later still
wine parties with cucumber
red and rich
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113011
|
The Bird King is trapped behind the mirrors. Sometimes you'll see a hand, a wing, fluttering in a dark space. You may even see his breath, a pulse of mist in a corner of the glass. But don't ever smash his silvered prison. Don't ever let him out and into the world.*****O…
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33221
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I Tinseled nebulae scatter, couples dance the dance of meridians, as seekers of that dream that does not seek; but so are we, but sense everything shall become antique, that the tragic is everything. Reverent this loneliness. Giving…
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98000
|
It was so dark below, there was only flashlights weaving about and headlights pointing in one direction.
|
114354
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It was uncomfortable to realize people had agendas. That there could be invisible realities.
|
127297
|
It sometimes happens a student remains a friend long after you both have abandon academe.
|
11371212
|
That afternoon she met me in the lobby of my hotel and we simply smiled at each other in the elevator going up to my room where we sat on the couch for about three hours and told of our lives, of being apart, for so many years, then sensing our time was nearly used up, I…
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1084119
|
When Chuck dies, I’ll throw/
a party and dance, a little drunk,/
across what I’ll pretend/
is the old shit’s grave.
|
95800
|
From outside it looked abandoned. We lived at the top of a dead end hill. The grass was high and brown, the bricks in the driveway were crooked, caved in. The winter was mild; rotten crabapples, half-frozen, lined the end of the road. This was my house.
|
99811
|
our cogs
winding
and whirring
|
33121
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Sometimes everything becomes as meaningless as a blonde woman with sunglasses. Still, there is something reassuring about the blonde woman with sunglasses, as she sits there alien to any regime, while I build my new empire of vanilla ice cream, so…
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102441
|
|
121911
|
When we started plans for the party, none of us wanted Larry to die, most of all Larry himself.
Actually, when we first started plans for the party, Larry wasn’t dying.
|
11901814
|
The phone rings. The oven beeps./
The locomotive whistles and howls.
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107953
|
only thoughts lost in lonely trails of red
|
141887
|
After school watching American Bandstand with my two best friends, all three of us lusting after Bunny Gibson who’s all of sixteen, stacked, and very fucking hot.
|
126922
|
Sloe Gin Fizz is pink
Bombay Gin comes in blue
I’m sitting here at Emerald’s
And all I can think of is –
you.
|
114032
|
A young boy, breathing heavily from running, stopped at her feet, barely able to speak,
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116942
|
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145143
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I. When my lips mouth yours where they are…
|
126244
|
When I got that brain tumor I hallucinated this crazy doctor. Dr. Doug. He came into my…
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120443
|
“I want you to know that you are being watched,” Ernie said. “I have trained a camera on your work station.”
|
130995
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I brimmed with sexual energy and it flowed about me like a buttermilk, silk robe. Rich and thick, musk-laden and fortified with my own particular brand of woman.
|
124563
|
I'm not sure if this is breaking the rules of Fictionaut, but here's a trailer of a poetry tour of Europe I did earlier this year. We hope to break it down into webisodes soon enough to highlight the brilliant readings, brilliant local poets and such that you can find not…
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135897
|
God's real name is Frank, and he stops by all the time. He tries to dump that cheap Xmas candy on us.
|
118431
|
The sugar cookie sits on the cold counter. Alone. He is cut in the shape of an angel, a fact which often causes him to contemplate the possibility that he may not be a cookie at all, but an angel. Who says he couldn’t be?
|
140142
|
Had I scoured all five boroughs of New York I couldn’t have found a more perfect imperfect object for my affections. Morgan was crazy as a loon, with the common sense of a mackerel and the emotional stability of a canary. But believing love could conquer
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