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Green Dots

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"It just makes sense to be nice to everything that lives."--Aurora AksnesLike Aurora, my favorite color is moss green. Anything else is a lie told to throw you off the scent. You will abandon her. Just like you will abandon me. Green. We were walking…

Father's Day

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I nudged my old man's boot from the coffee table and picked up beer cans. The boots were chewed-up and he still wore the shirt with his name, but he'd retired. There were little burn holes in it from welding and smoking. I emptied the mound of Lucky Strikes. He talked in…

Getting over the man in the moon

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First have a good window seat

The Cuervo Gold and Clorox Blues

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I try to keep myself from weeping. We are all actors in a bad dream, that doesn’t go away in the morning

Introducing Molloy Foppiano

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Before Andromeda can swallow us expand our stars...

'We're generically stamped. Aren't you generically stamped?'

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[FUCK!]

A Journal of the Plague Year, Day 193

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More thoughts on denial...

The Donkey

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Since dawn doesn't understand my words, I will give them to the donkey, finely cut for him, let them ferment some time and add a few sprigs of lucerne. The donkey grazes in the meadow down the road and always welcomes me with a grin that displays his mauve gums and his…

vers libre inexplicable, mock sonnet, half villanelle

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this vaudeville world has turned all into stage— / the message appears on each screen and page: / every domain and institution—staged.

Life in Outer Space

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Conveniently, the vistor had arrived when she was between tasks. It was still difficult for her to believe that it had occurred but she had the tangible proof there in front of her, within reach.

One old and one new

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served as it is/ among these friends. The frayed filaments/ tickle my chin and irritate my nostrils,

Cloud 9, Really?

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I wonder, just a thought Who even dreamt to Teach a pig Latin? And why a starfish Mirrors the stars We do not know There’s a whole lot To wonder about Like, I don’t know How about Cloud 9? I want to know what happened On Cloud

Frank & Frank

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Ok, so I know this guy, he's a friend of mine. A good friend, even though I think he's left too big a tip on the bar more than once. His name is Frank.

Alex Kraft and the Otherworld: Prologue through Chapter 27

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Prologue Late at night, an old man named Drevin Philpott stands on the deck of a cruise ship, looking out at the sea. The man is hunched and very small. His arms and legs are thin and he's got a bowling ball for a gut. He's standing on a chair so he can…

Toad

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“I come from a long line of Toad Kings,” Huckleberry said, “and we never back down from a bet.”Phyllis, a great white heron, lowered her long white neck so she could get a better look into her friend's golden eyes.“I just think you…

Wayward Souls

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Based on length it looked like a note, lacking the deeper illustration found in full-fledged letters, but also missing were condolences and considering the subject, such sympathies might have seemed appropriate: Dear Mr. and Mrs. Madison, Katie is

Babel

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As if reaching for the Divine was the problem

Swiss Sushi vs. Swish Suzi

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There being so few venues for Lapp dancing in Lausanne in those days, Swish Suzi took a job in a Swiss sushi bar.

It's the Great Conspiracy, Danny Brown

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Danny was only ten years old when he first met the man in the suit. His machine looked like a plotter and it was, sort of, but also something of a plot device.

The bamboo stick

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I no longer go for walks without my bamboo stick. Tightly held in my hand, thin and light, it beats the invisible particles which try to land on me and bite. My face is hidden as in shame under a rough gag, my hands are getting rusty, missing the touch of other hands. My…

Beautiful

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Adam, bronze and lithe, runs laps on the beach

At the Cafe

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The light on his face from a lamp Felt hat with a black band Scrunched down The nose creating a strong shadow With dark, straight eyebrows under the hat Red and orange beard Leaning forward at the café table, watching A damp curl of ha

Not Making Heads or Tales

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Something about shadows and last time and driving.

Suspicious Activity

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I go down to pick up R and get a cartridge of black ink for the printer. It's an extremely pleasant summer day — early afternoon — and the air is exemplary: clear and sweet. So far so good. But as soon as I park and go to a nearby cash machine the fun begins.…

The Wave

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Crispcrashingcoldan interlude from youThe pebbles pulled back and forthlike side stepping nailswhite frothan interlude from youThe sun likeA camellia for herCrispColddropsflicking on her face.An interludefrom you.

Sprouts

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I feel more like sprouts than cucumbers. Oh, hey. Icame here to tell you something you already know, butmaybe can't remember. Or maybe it's me who is rememberingsomething I meant to say, but didn't. Oh, hey. There's alfalfa and mung bean. I love those skinny little…

Voices of the Dying

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raging on road and page

Sure Thing

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If you ask me I'm thinking I'm just blowing off some steam, some hot air that doesn't add up to the old cliche of a hill of beans. A hill of fucking beans.

eritis sicut deus

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—but neither Lenin’s serenity nor Voron’s could last for long!

The Perfect Crime

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I had committed the perfect crime, and I had left nothing to chance; my best strategy was chancing nothing. Prudence and planning were my only allies, and these are the best allies of success. Usually.