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You are a warm winter Despite the presence of snow

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I always hated God for the Holocaust,

The Figured Surface

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Number the herd. Number/ the baskets after harvest./ Note the reappearance of the moon/ after its short absence.

Privileged

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I could hide away in this tower But I am Rapunzel And I will let down my hair

Failed Restaurants

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Their specialty is the roasted Australian hare, long ears intact, arranged on a bed of sassafras.

Fly the Friendly Skies

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Lucky bastard, he gets Glamour Puss and I get lady wrestler who's giving off the vibe she'll bludgeon me to death with her Bible if I make one false move.

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Frank says if I eat the whole bowl of live crickets he’ll give me five dollars and his grandfather’s silver bullet from the war.

Noir in cadence

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...hup hup hup...

Big Hotel Inside of a Jungle Brain

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He's not something you'll want, waiting for you, inside your living room's ear. Go and see your family. Breathe the broad daylight whenever you can. I got lost in some free form dog caves. That's all. That's no path to aspire to …

The Fly

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We should put him out of his misery.

A Novel Begins...

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She was washing the dishes in the sink, (you're not going to start with a pronoun, are you? Give her a name, for God's sake!) Kate was washing dishes in the sink, (where the hell else is she going to wash dishes? In a creek?) Kate was washing dishes (was…

Assiduity Four

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Her clothing style varies from grunge to glamor and . . . she always looks good.

my father's fear

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my father has a phobia of dentists./ he also once felt/ that if the house ran out of toilet paper/ he would lose his job.

Procedural

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Val walks through the world, absorbed in the day to day. A plainspoken narrator drones on in his mind. The nondescript voice marks time to the beat of Val's banal footfall, hums along with the whir of Val's modest, midsize sedan. The narration is loudest in the twilight…

Juggernauts

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They are always there. Stoic and steady.

The Gate Before

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You were always goingto connect the dots. I was always goingto overfill a bucketwith poems. You wouldeventually drive off wavingyour hand like astar on a spring. I'dshoulder up another notebookfor the walk. Myhand would rather holda pencil. Yours wouldaccept a kiss…

Clover Grill: A Short Story

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I'm somewhere on I-10 in Mississippi, barreling westbound at 80 miles an hour through a rainstorm on a late Wednesday afternoon. The last road sign I remember was for Beauvoir, some Confederate general's…

Exploring Physics

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Our half-life, radioactive decay, particles shed leaving dust and bone."twilight years", "golden age", "evening of life"?Bullshit. I'm not ready to stop pumping high octane.You said, "I'll take you to Paris."Hemingway's address is still in your notebook, I saw it.I'll wear…

Listen To Our Birds

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We know a poem isn't going to stop you From invading our town. It won't get you to Listen to our birds any more than to our Sunsets. That's not why we do it. We know A poem isn't going to break the blade of Your knife like an…

Three New Poems

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Letter(s)The sky set itself on fire, butit really didn't make a whole lot of difference. Birdsknew not to worry any more thanusual. Trees thought and made the mostof their landscapes as a way ofbeing modern and yet timeless. It's onlypeople who suffer from too much…

Rush

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Rush had a black eye and a bucket of dirty water. Look, a baby turtle he said, like that explained everything. Yes, I did lack a turtle so thank you for disappearing for three months and returning with a goddamned turtle. His weird homecoming gift took my…

The Egg Whisk

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A plain oval face, opaque except for a birthmark streaking the right cheek like chicken shit.

On Writing

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it's the very words that are the problem

Still Life (55 words)

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It wasn't so much the softness of the bed that kept her from sleep, or the pungent bleach-scent of the unfamiliar sheets, but the lack of her clock's familiar tick, tick, tick. Or was it a missing heartbeat? Awake, she watched his chest. On the table, an empty pill …

Turtle Summer

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He was her summer fling, the first cock to crow when the sun rose over her tequila smile.

tetanus

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no one cried

I Like it This Way

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Through its branches we saw a couple. Teenagers, narrow and pale, two young birch trees, their roots twisted, submerged in the water.

Reasons to Live (RtL) = right to left

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6. to register for the draft

Random Little Linguistic Discharges

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Eat the Body/ Drink the Blood/ Perfect the sacrifice,

Dear Feline

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Rocky, Arne’s elderly cat, was perturbed by invisible phantoms that provoked him to leap up on his hind legs, batting his front paws at the air like Don Quixote attacking windmills.