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At the Juvenile Bubonic Plague Telethon

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We’re not like a lot of your fly-by-night disease-based charities. Every pence we raise goes directly to St. Bartholomew’s, where 90% of it ends up in the pockets of doctors so they can buy expensive horses.

The Arrival

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On a certain level, everyone was relieved when it finally did happen. They had been waiting a long time for it. Finally, they could relax. There was no reason for anxiety anymore.

The Here Here Here Lately

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electron metastasis

SHADOW

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I am a shadow. Cooler than liquid. I don't need a container to take shape.

Metaviews at Metazen

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This is self-reflection or self-reflexive writing. Candor but not verse. That is what I write: not-verse. On occasion I write a poem though rarely an occasional poem. Instead of calling it non-fiction we could call it non-verse.

The Busy World is Perfectly Happy

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to continue to crumble its way through another grinding cycle of slowly walking to the edge of the universe ancient treelike beings, like gentle ghost buffalo, and our own thundering buildings by the hundreds of thousands, …

Outside Thunder Pallets

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Carl’s peculiarity of toilet paper rolls is not covered under the Americans with Disabilities Act – he’s looked it up.

Mountains

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Sweet Sounds of Home

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Father makes sure the rum is safe, and still down, on his ass, he unscrews the top and takes a slug, and then a second one.

Moving Out

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Lying in the blissful glow of young television. Idly sleeping, eyes open and ears closed.

Drum Naked

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Where truth is revealed To all, transparency In policy, including The REAL reasons We are at war.

My Grandmother Becomes A Young Widow

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I want her life to pass in a world without meridian

Standing aloof

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I think it cumbersome to walk within a darkened room. Too awkwardly uncouth, for one with such a corpulent frame, to hug the hungry. It weighs one down, to wave airily, to wildlings By cages, and pain, made tame. Best to look away, than…

The Trapper Boy at Work, One Mile Underground

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The coal carts come and go like the seasons, never stopping.

Another Land

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In another land...

TGIF

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“You’re off till Monday,” the big man told him. “You can thank Mr. Big Mouth and company for that. Death detail gets two days off.”

The Man from OBERIU

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Elizaveta still wore her winning smile, the one that only charmed. She looked up suddenly: “Watch out, Pushkin! (falls over Gogol) “Watch out, Gogol!” (falls over Pushkin).

It Can Hold Us All

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Look out for rotten ice. If you fall in, pull yourself out like a seal. Take off all your clothes and get to shelter.

A political parable

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One of these days we aren’t going to believe whatever they tell us.

IGGY (Iguana Iguana) — A Novel (Chapter)

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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

In the Beginning...

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In the beginning there was salt. God licked the salt and said it was Good. Then there was light. And then chocolate.

42 Mirrors

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What becomes the identity of a woman who has been denied all her rights and thrown into a mental institution?

Generous World

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perhaps because it knows that time’s a solvent/ and dissolves all things in time.

You're Never Going to Break My Heart

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Like any lovable lump of hidden rocks, these hills she breathes life into, blinking existence, are all well worth jumping up and over again and again. Just ask the little kids. Their endless landscape of discovery…

Eleutheria

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She watched an inky cloud suck all the color / from the trees.

“Adrien Brody,” Adrien Brody, and Adrien Brody’s Nose: A Response to Tao Lin’s Response to “Tumblr ‘Shit-Talking’”

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Here is “Adrien Brody” through a Freudian lens: Calloway wanted to fuck her father. She flew to New York City to fuck a version of her father who has a name similar to an actor with an interesting nose and a lot of talent. Neither Calloway nor the actor n

Phil's Last Stand

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Phil was scared. Not of his own shadow, but of the three men from ConAgra who'd dropped a duffel bag of green outside his den the week before.

Let me tell you about the smell of the rain.

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You are lonely. Let me tell you about the smell of the rain.

beepbeepbeep

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Howard needed to finish this time. As his marriage slid further down the sinkhole toward divorce, it was important to him that his affair be successful.

Extra Ticket

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My best friend died yesterday. His name was Franklin Seever, but we all called him Lin. It started when we were in Little League. There were two Franklins on the team so Coach, who was my dad, called the fat one Frank and my best friend Lin.