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Paul and Mary Jo lived in an apartment at the top of a long, dark flight of stairs that were so high, I remember as if it were yesterday thinking, the night she pushed him down the stairs, he would surely be dead by the time he hit the landing at the…
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No CNN to sing obliteration,/
only Pliny the Younger/
to scratch what fell
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In December of 2003, Daniel Arredondo succumbed to his years long battle with colon cancer. If the name is unfamiliar, you're not alone. He did not answer to the name Daniel Arredondo. For most of his life, from seventeen years old to the end, in fact, he went by the name…
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Both my Nana and my mother have blond hair…as a child I thought most women of European descent tended towards this color, this particular hue of straw, and threads of gold woven together. I had been somewhere as a nine year old, I…
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I can trust you with my secrets, can’t I?
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Christmas night was closing in at the Cantrips alehouse in Aberdeen, a firm favourite for riggers and other men and women who lived life close to the horizon. Sometimes, on a Saturday night, things might get a bit rowdy but Mother O'Grady would stand firm and bring out…
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into another bright vat of boiling over hot lies. It's sick, man, the way you'd rather dig for a supposed (royal) buried treasure than make a new beautiful thing start to happen, breakyour back, break your spirit, over and over, until there's nothing left to…
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A sunrise over the dark Atlantic, on a perfect beach day, tasting of salt and warmth and powdered sugar; of last, desperate kisses of youth, still shivering from delicious night, is beautiful.A sunrise over the dark ruins of Syria, on hot dusted stones, tasting of lament…
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I looked away. Why embarrass the Ottawa woman? Why make her uncomfortable? The polite thing is to move on, forget about it. Stare at the sidewalk not yet wet but becoming wet. Be Canadian.
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If you were glassI'd fog you up With my breathI'd leave messagesPictographsIn fingerprints I'd press in closeSo would youAnd so we'd danceBut you are glassAn inch of depthTo catch my breath
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We spend our days on the beach, working on our tans. My pale wife hides under a big floppy hat. The water is crystal clear.
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an EZ How to Guide in 50 simple steps
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As American as hotdogs and apple pie...
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“Tell me how sad they are.”
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You’re mad as a hatter she said. Eons, eras of epochal proportions go by before you call me. I said recalibrate your linear thinking, incubator baby. I whispered permutations of wonder, told her secrets only the sufis know. We ate French goat cheese lac
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It was uncomfortable to realize people had agendas. That there could be invisible realities.
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Years later Polyphemus still remembers the wine-soaked taste of Odysseus’s men. The barley and garlic-flavored Greeks. Their flesh a fibrous, blood-hued hummus. Their crunched bones releasing sweet marrow.
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"She began singing The Police song, 'Roxanne' in a falsetto voice, just like Sting."
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His face was creased with sadness the first time in the room and he danced his tai chi like a young man half his age, and laughed, like headtrippers do, from the neck up.
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His daddy died in his sleep. Went to bed one might and never got up.
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You can tend to recognise the difference between a good and mediocre mind by observing how each reacts to a misfired original idea.The mediocre mind will praise the merely meretricious, but ignore the more interesting bad art. The higher mind will value the misfired…
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Wafting wisps of fondness twinkling
in time with fairy lights pointing out lawns in cities
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Near dusk today a car backfired on the street beneath my office window
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Every ten days, the Decadent Sisters assembled for dinner. Although raised together, they were each very different...
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Lately, while he is upon me, in that way that men are upon women, I imagine him a pornstar with only one clip available for replay. Like I am a loop of a video girl below, taking it, maybe calling out in Russian. When I feel rambunctious, I imagine him a
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Where truth is revealed
To all, transparency
In policy, including
The REAL reasons
We are at war.
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