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The Ungrateful Dead and the Human Resource Recovery and Refineries Act

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Incidents intensified. The Dead appeared in twos and threes at shopping mall and Wal-Mart parking lots.

Stealing From A Corpse

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He kept one scarf. It was the scarf that she would tie around his eyes to play with him, long, until he was in his teens. A silly game that made her happy and he squirmed with delight until he got too old. She did not want him to see her, only to know if

Past Brutalities

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Seven micros

Let the Others Drool

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They are all sleeping, but I know better. I will keep watch and if he comes tonight I will be alert and ready. When he arrives he'll see the slack mouths, the graceless sprawls, hear the grunts, snorts and snores of the other women and then he'll sense me. My eyes will…

Archer

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No one explained triumph would feel like this.

bramble

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i don't know

October is the month when your dog dies

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The Good Sounds of Squeamish Language

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Accuracy is a prediction

Darcy Eastland

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To him the younger women, contemporaries of the bride, all sounded as if they were breathing helium.

Smoke and Stars

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as distant lights all must shiver before joining in a Milky Way river

Stationcity Drums

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Deep in Stationcity they began to drum.

WRECKED

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There

Key Cutting

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City cars packed with eyes

Lines with Billie Holiday

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It is almost as if there isn’t a wedge of wood between us – I can feel him inches away from me. I can’t control the sigh or the tears that escape my body.

Consequently, I Rejoice

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The infinite terrifies.

Laughing, Crying

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It was Brad, for short; or so he would say. But really his name was Bradford, and he was a writer. He had almost always lived in New York. He was only half-white. His mother had run away with a black man in the sixties. Her father had told her to never come back to…

TBT

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Back then we used to dance slowly to Sam Cooke's “You Send Me” on your parquet floors, whispering about planting our vegetable garden, planning to seed the lawn with centipede grass, promising to count all the red cars that came down the street.

Leaky Guts

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One day, Dasha confessed to Igor that she had an incurable illness: Purple emptiness.

What's Cool about Getting Old

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My skin tells a story of pain and labor. It’s better than a tattoo and cheaper.

H. Abstract

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“Dear, baby, what do you fear?” Or maybe it was, “Now here are the keys to the lock.”

Funeral

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After the funeral there was a luncheon in the church basement.

(Yet Another) Mask

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In frustration, he picked up a hammer and slammed it straight into the center of the mask.

When He Left it all to Me

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Where did you go?

Oed is Dead

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I COULD always sleep. Go "home" now and sleep. My body and my fetus—who complain of this torture—would appreciate sleep. I have something to do that is not sleep. I have something to do that is not sleep. I have to try to wake.

Stranger and the green gloves

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Book of Mountains

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Headsets screaming with suburban boredom

Doctor My Eyes: The Ultimate Cataract Surgery Mix Tape

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Q: What's the best song to sing to your doc before cataract surgery? A: I Only Have Eyes For You

Disposable

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He was a liability. I knew I had to ditch him.

Nest

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He spends his Sunday morning spraying WD-40 through the straw-like stream attachment at the expansive paper nest of beige and ivory striped wasps.

Whataboutery

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A scene.