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Signs

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The monkey did not live for long. He’d lost interest in the stuffed dog pretty much right away. The farther away the shuttle, the more garbled and fanciful the sign language the monkey had been taught became.

Summertime

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I am so happy to see winter almost gone

Granny Medicine

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Antibiotic ointment didn't help. Maybe Granny medicine would.

Nothing Ever Stays Looking

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The same, some things you Can't explain, most trees Have felt it go bone dry at the roots before. I've learned to let love Go bye bye. You think they don't Want to answer your pathetic knocks, But they're…

The Writing Class

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I ask if anyone has a poem or a story they would like to read. Everybody's hand shoots up.

Burn

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No one believed me when I told them this: I took all of my novels and tossed them into the fire.

Rose Gold

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He hasn't had a wedding ring in years. When George's knuckles began to swell — a little arthritis — his ring dug into his finger so bad his wife Loren took him to the ER and had it cut off. The ring, not the finger. He never knew there was a tool to cut rings,…

Walking On Air

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Nik Wallenda was going to walk a wire stretched from Sarasota Bay across US 41 to a condo on Gulf Stream Drive.

Sunday Cookout

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She thrust her proboscis through seven layers of dermis and began to suck, filling her belly with his Welbutrin and Xanax infused blood.

Gone to Seed

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The careful paths of larger versions gave me enough time to think, to sense their fears from pauses between footsteps, and prepare those minutes, hours, weeks before they decomposed into my whole.

Band Names

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Post No Bills. The Crouton Mavens. United Burglars Union. Crockpot Mistakes. The Heavy Doors. Fire In the Yurt. Douche Baguettes. Upsy-Daisey. Schmazelhood. Sidetrackia. Flotsam and Jetsam. Argyle Sox. Roachmobile. The Adulterer’

You May Telephone From Here

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There's something in the space youare tonight that's for me asweet presence in my own life,and so like any othercoward I write a poemin vain. It will never beseen as itself by you, butpossibly be mistakenfor an open window. Somewill definitely call itfurniture, some will…

like a child

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where is the magic at? the spit the dirt or the words?

The Short Life Of Shapes On Sun-Kissed Eyelids

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She sees Connick Jr. now has a microphone. He is singing “All of Me” as if he meant her to take all of him.

Glory at the Motel 6

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Rory and Betty Sloan entered the first of 40 rooms in the new Motel 6 to place Holy Bibles in 40 night tables.

Runts

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Dead drunks sing Christmas/ songs-

Seriously?

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Did you really think you were going to cure cancer with that poem?

Pretty New Landscape

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It's important to make a sure sound. It's not impossible you know. It's just funny I suppose, like being in a dream of another dream. All these things could be mashed and tumbled together to make us one big clay hero, someone…

civilization

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is this the end of civilization is this what i've been thinking of

Something Short

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It went like this: We were at the river. It had been a long day. The sun set over the hill tops, now. Me and Danny sat by the edge with buckets of water full of small fish and some dead crab that we'd got from the market, earlier and looked out over the small waves the…

One A.M. at the Beau Rivage

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After the show they talked at the famous comedian, reaching the way they do, with their arms. Their arms are curved a good way, a better way than the older white planes of my own.

ok

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this doesn't turn me on

Peeling Onions

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I was in the kitchen peeling onions. They stung my eyes, and perhaps I was crying. I heard my dear husband run into the room and turned with the knife in my hand.

The Passed Away

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Died is forever. Passed away/ Is ambiguous. Dead isn’t/ polite.

Christmas Morning

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Dad woke us up and said it was time to go.

Six Tiny Memories

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I took a lover on Ibiza either because he was clean-smelling or because he had a hotel room and there were none to be had.

With Respect to a Fellow Poet

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We do not all love each other for the sake of our shared art, apparently.

Slow Train

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In grief, I'd ride a slow train there with you, / one hand in yours and one hand on the rail,

The Woman Who Loved Water

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I hear the woman upstairs running water. But that's incorrect. I should say the woman upstairs is running from water. She loves water. And water loves her. She loves cooking and doing dishes but especially running water. She runs water all day doing dishes, doing laundry…

Snowdrops

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'Do you feel that, my little one?' Stillness. Calm. I felt the baby move her tiny little feet and smiled.