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Two Snapshots of A Drowning Girl

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One fine afternoon a few months after her husband's death, Susan awoke in the porcelain tub of her gigantic, empty house with: two champagne bottles, one only half-empty; a Xanax bottle, completely empty; and a loaded gun, which was most startling

Paris in the the Spring

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he thought of her / longingly

Mom forgot her phone!

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The secret meaning of celebrity

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Unapproachable... for all that.

Span

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That’s a long time/ to live with the certainty/ of your death

Mice and Men

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Some life in Rosco's walls. He listened with his dead wife Sonya's stethoscope: rustles and scratching, a collective heartbeat.“Vermin”, said Vlad, Rosco's neighbor. “Will take over if no kill.” He smiled with one tooth, urped some vodka. “I…

Ah, You’re Funny. Good Thing

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I was talking to this famous female artist at the reception, (as if I knew anything,) “If you want to be taken as a serious artist now, you have to have one long serious eyebrow.” There was no reaction. So, I said: “Also, you should kn

Rwanda Suite: Gasoline

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I realize the kid is still smoking. Shocked, I tear the cigarette from his mouth, throw it to the earth, and grind it to death with the heel of my boot.

There's Always A Tree Dying Somewhere

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Bonus included.

A headline for Amy Hempel

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I shall go with german rules of capitalization in titles today.

tea

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what a mess

Men Will Always Thirst

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IA prophetic mile from the towering hill,tombs of ages lie.I open my eyes; I am stillin hieroglyph dreams of histories,nearby moans the sea, cold as usual, consecrated.Something created, destroyed,then in shadow, remade. The shore spouts forthold silence,…

Time Flies

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Time has wings. They are bright and beautiful, like those of a butterfly. They are delicate wings, and they carry the years away from my decaying mind. I would break those wings if I could, for tomorrow I turn seventy-three, and I grow weary of their ince

Promenade

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At the week's end, memories may come to you Of weekends same as those just gone before, That fade away from seeing as a tide's grey flue, That vanishes once travelled to a shifting shore: Still, hope you'll know a girl for an hour anew, One who fades…

Past Imperfect, Future Imperfect

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A proper study of human history should lead the student to an inescapable desire to commit suicide

Gentry Major

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“Paroxysms, well, what in the hell’s a paroxysm?” “I think the better question is what kind of name is Gentry, Gentry?” “Yes, that’s a better question. Do you really want to know? I was named after my grandfather, Ol’ Gentry Jones Filips III. They

Blue Baby

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they taught art

The Haunted Coins

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(I woke once from a bad dream to throw them from the drawer, but my hands were so clammy, the coins stuck to my hand! I had to scrape them off my palm on the edge of the table.)

At Least There Will Be Plenty Implied

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Accidental suicide, though. Why, that could happen to anyone.

Matilda

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A day will come when silence spells what nothing else could. It will come to feed those things no autumn can. And when that day is over we will go through a period of bereavement, pray we won't recover fully. Not everything is a…

Fugue No. 2

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Moonless sky of stars, silently flickered by bats, with constellations defined and bold. The curve of the plough matching that of your shoulder, as if it were a decoration.

Here Comes the Sun

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She lies on her stomach by the side of the pool staring into her towel. On her back, I can make out a pastel isthmus, surgery's pink art or charlatan's scab, I can't tell which. She is beautiful as rare roast beef is beautiful.

Exhumation

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the poems/ we never got to will remain,

Behind the Ear

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She grew tired of waiting for her husband to give her a flower so she picked one for herself.

You Write Books?

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“Somebody told me you write books.”

The Invisible Corpse Candle

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Her eyes stared wide with panic, her teeth chattered intermittently with impressive intensity, and with her ineffectual stabs at the air she completed the portrait of distracted mania.

eggs

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i ask you what i taste like and you say "not much."

Roses

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Your laugh used to startle the nurses.

How the Other Half Lives

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Most of life, it turns out, is pathetic. Very little is funny. We have to generate our own laughter. Canned laughter may have to do. Even if we have to carry the can around our neck like a Saint Bernard or strapped to our hip

The Privileged, The Righteous, The Bored

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I saw you, old man, in the desertof iron and copper and cold.No sorrow there to subvert,your eyes repulsed by the gold,examine the joy of an apple,ponder the despair of a peach.The words you wish to unravelare words beyond limits of speech.I can tell you hide a strong…